Dream On
by Dr.Beard
Summary: A strange illness ravages NERV, leaving most of the staff trapped in a coma-like sleep. The only hope to awaken them is an experimental synchronization technique that will let an Eva Pilot project themselves into the others's dreams! Can Shinji save NERV?
1. Chapter 1

Dream On

Edit: Hey, figured I'd throw some notes up here as I attempt to figure out formatting. First of all, Neon Genesis Evangelion isn't mine, nor am I making any money off of this document. It's a fan story made for fun, and if asked, I'll put it down. Not a hilarious disclaimer, but what can you do.

Next, please bare with me! I'm still trying to figure the formatting here out, as just direct uploading my line breaks didn't work. Probably because I used asterisks. Special thanks to my pals Zel and Smiko for their feedback. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Why am I waking up again?

This question echoed through the otherwise pleasantly vacant mind of one Asuka Langley Soryu as she impotently glared at the tiny red clock. 'Vacant' and 'impotent' were not normally conditions the mighty Asuka Langley Soryu-and yes, she resolved, you had to say all three names to get the proper effect-had to concern herself about, but five o'clock in the morning tended to have that effect on even the mightiest of...of...

Delicate teeth ground against each other as the frustration of being unable to think of an appropriately glorious adjective to describe herself with stabbed into Asuka's brain. Rolling around her bed a few times, as if in defiance of the fact that she was awake, it was 5 AM on the first Friday she had off from school that didn't involve aliens invading since she came to this damn country, and in fact this was all some terrible illusion concocted by one of her many enemies, probably that damn Ikari kid wanting to find a way to sneak out of making breakfast this morning. Yeah. That was it. Blaming Shinji, even and, perhaps, especially when there was no possible way the little milksop could be at fault could always be counted on as a way to light the fire of righteous vengeance in Asuka's belly; the girl sat up and rubbed her hands together as a strange, predatory smile spread itself across her lips. Oh, he'd get his, she thought, her manic mind swimming with possibilities of retribution, the steam of impending victory springing the girl to her feet, the promise of glory being all she needed to forget that hollow, weak feeling that kept her from sleeping or truly waking up. After all, who has time to feel...strange, Asuka amended, because she did not feel depressed, she was totally fine, and she had something tangible to focus on, that being getting herself some coffee and plotting out the utter destruction of one Shinji Ikari, professional doormat.

"Hao hao hao!" Askua had been working on a unique-sounding triumphant laugh, for just such an occasion. "That was pretty good." She murmured, carefully pushing her door open so she could boldly step out to face the world without waking anyone else up-for strategic advantage, of course, Asuka reasoned, and not out of any weakling sense of courtesy. "Hao hao ha-owww!" One hand moved to cover her mouth, while the other grabbed her throbbing foot, and Asuka found herself hopping in place, desperately trying to keep her balance while muffling a scream of pain and glaring at the beer can that so impudently stabbed her in the foot. Stupid sloppy penguin. Stupid lazy houseboy. Stupid laws of physics. Groaning, Asuka managed to hop her way to the couch, plopping down with a plumph and staring moodily at her treacherous foot. It really wasn't so bad...nothing she couldn't handle herself. Her immune system was, like the rest of her, superior after all! Yes! Askua nodded to herself with vicious strength, confirming that she didn't even need to get up. She could just sit here and...

And...

Reclining slightly into the too-comfortable folds of the couch, Askua blearily turned the television on. She blinked, once, realizing that she recognized the little cartoon animals warbling on the screen, there. An almost girlish smile overtook her face as she felt the faintly warm glow of an actual, precious, pleasant childhood memory fill her senses.

Why am I waking up again?

Shinji Ikari groaned, softly, covering his head with a pillow and attempting to shut out the rest of the planet. Failure was as inevitable as always, however, as his sensitive ears picked up the faint rustles, clangs, and other noises that marked the transition from Way Too Late to Way Too Early. Wondering what exactly he did to deserve his SDAT player breaking on him, the Third Child heaved a tired sigh and weighed his options.

He could get up. Sure, it was pointless in the grand scheme of things; no matter what he did today, tomorrow, or any day, eventually an Angel would come and he'd either die, or be responsible for the pain and suffering of even more of the people of this city. Even if they did get lucky and one of the Evangelion pilots who actually knew how to do their jobs saved the day, it's not like his father would suddenly start acting like he wasn't embarrassed to be related to Shinji, or his isolation from the rest of the human race would get any easier. Even the people he could not deny he was close to misunderstood him, likely only tolerated him because they needed another warm body between them and the Angels. Even a mad dog can scare away a burglar, Shinji reasoned, as long as you don't get too close to it yourself.

But, Shinji continued to reason, since that's unchanging, what effect does it ultimately have? What if I did stop whining and get the heck up? Seize the day, make breakfast, play with Pen-Pen, things normal people with normal minds took for granted. Cautiously, as if worried that any movement would betray his fragile, cautious optimism, Shinji turned to look at the little NERV clock his father had given him; the tiny cartoon image of Gendo Ikari's face, glaring balefully at anyone foolish enough to make eye contact, still proclaimed, "No excuses for not showing up, boy." in bright, colorful text. The sight had dulled over his time in Tokyo-03, or perhaps his skin was simply getting thicker; either way, it was less a kick in the gut and more a stub of the toe. It was five in the morning. Five in the darn morning. And didn't they have off today? Something about the teachers all attending a class on new MAGI protocols...or something like that. Even in his thoughts, Shinji was weary of absolutes, though he really didn't take offense at his being wrong like he worried others would. It was more habit than anything else. But it was still five in the darn morning, and Shinji's brief motivation to embrace the new day was crushed under the realization that if he were to get up, the noise would probably wake Misato up.

The Third Child smiled, softly, as he mentally corrected himself; the noise he made would probably wake Asuka up, and her terrible, bloody retribution would be what pierced the armor of Misato's hangover and shove his guardian awake. The fact that he found this funny probably meant that he was finally cracking up, Shinji reasoned, or that Toji's been right all along and I just didn't know everyone found things like that funny because I didn't have anyone else growing up. Shinji wasn't sure which thought was more depressing...

"Ha-oooow!"

...as usual, it took something from the outside to force Shinji out of the recursive loop of his thoughts and into the real world. What the heck was that?!, he thought furiously, and only took half of a second to be surprised that at how quickly and quietly he had gotten up to his feet. Shinji supposed he was in better shape than he gave himself credit for, and looked for something hard. Sure, Misato was a trained soldier, crack shot, and bonafide military genius, Asuka had a black belt in three kinds of kung fu, and Shinji was fairly sure Pen Pen kept a switchblade in his freezer, but...

"But what?" Shinji muttered to himself, looking at the old aluminum baseball bat Misato had given him before learning about his allergy to organized sports, "What do I think I'm doing?" Well, Shinji internally argued, he was the 'man of the house', sort of. Even if that kind of thinking was a little sexist...which kind of struck Shinji as odd, because the strongest people in his life were women. On the other hand, some of those same women had a habit of calling him just that whenever it suited their fiendish purposes. Maybe, Shinji couldn't help but think as he stared morbidly at the bat in his hands, you just want the excuse to hit something. The smell of blood...

Wait. A faint thumping. A strong, coppery smell. Shinji's eyes widened as he realized that there really was someone else in the house! The boy's fevered imagination went into overdrive, outlining possibility after possibility but unable to escape one crucial fact. Shinji was awake, and his roommates were not. In other words, while Shinji could get the drop on their visitor, said invader could definitely sneak up on anyone else in the house! The Third Child took a second to appreciate the irony of his only being able to find his courage in situations like these, and carefully slipped out of his door, holding the baseball bat high above his head. Half-learned combat training and instincts developed from the sheer difficulty of living alone in the world after Second Impact both told Shinji that there definitely was a person...sitting on their couch...a quick look at the floor led Shinji to a conclusion. Whoever the person was, they had gotten close to Asuka's room, cut their foot on a beer can Pen-Pen seemed to have sliced open with his beak, and then, because there were no other blood stains, must've hopped to the couch in order to stop the bleeding. So there'd be no way to trace the villain! Shinji breathed shallowly, trying to suppress the panic that came with his terrible realization that he was facing off with a ruthless, clever criminal. He had to do this. He can't run away. Who else would pick up the mess? Okay. On three. One, two...

"TORYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Shinji's voice cracked as he let out his war cry, charging forward and preparing to swing the bat in a brutal overhead strike that would, he hoped, incapacitate the criminal. The red haired criminal. Red hair, pigtails...

"AIIIEEEEEEEE!" Asuka screeched, turning around and holding her arms in front of her face, eyes almost comically widened in absolute shock. "B-back off, mister! I know kung fu!"

"...Asuka?"

"...Shinji?"

The silence was pregnant. With triplets.

Locked in position, Shinji desperately thought of what to do in a situation like this. Apologize? Explain? Swing and act like it didn't happen when she came to on the off chance that she'd think it was a dream? "...oh, hey, I used to watch that cartoon as a kid." Shinji stated with the certainty of the damned, "I didn't know you were into that stuff."

Well, that had gotten Asuka out of her shock. The girl blinked, once, calmly cracked each of her knuckles, and smiled sunnily up at Shinji. "So, you're calling me a little girl, now?"

"Why the hell am I awake." is what Misato Katsuragi tried to say. She was pretty sure it came more out like, "Whuutughellmmiake.", but it was the thought that counted in these situations. She couldn't quite make out her clock's...shape, let alone what time it was, but judging by the pace and intensity of the throbbing just behind her eyelids, the proper answer was far, far too early. Someone was responsible for this.

"Ow! Asuka, not the face!"

"Still feel like a big strong man now, Ikari?! Who's the little kid NOW?! Taking advantage of a wounded woman, really..."

Two someones. Not for the first time, Misato briefly wondered what exactly she was thinking when she took those two in; it was bad enough that the pair apparently had a cat and a dog in their genetic background somewhere, but what kind of a mo-guardian wasn't able to get up for fear of tripping over her sake bottle and falling out of the window? The very thought brought Misato back to the time she had bit the bullet and called her mom, hoping for some advice, or at least confirmation that she was completely unfit to be anywhere near children and should probably be in jail. She had never heard her mother laugh so loud, so long, or so triumphantly before. The mere thought of the 'It's your turn now!' victory dance the woman had managed to convey over the holo-phone brought Misato's hangover to new plateaus of pain and, with a groan, the Major managed to find her way onto her feet, dully noticing that she had no idea where she left her gun.

"W-well, what was I supposed to do?! Let some p-prowler have full run of the house?! It was an honest mistake!"

"The worrying about me's sweet, Shinji, but my poor little girl mind just can't grasp the complicated machinations of your burly guy-mind. Which is why your head still has to get stuffed into the couch!"

"...like any sane criminal would kidnap _you_..."

"WHAT WAS THAT?!"

It was, in the long term, probably for the best, Misato rationalized. It was going to be hours before she could get enough of some kind of stimulant...she wasn't picky...into her system to make all the bull's-eyes on her kids' cherubic frames go away. Heaving a sigh, the weary Major shoved her door open, stumbled out of the hall, and took a moment to take in the scene. The girl had the boy pulled into a reverse suplex, trying to shove his head into her beautiful, expensive couch while keeping his feet locked against the cushions of selfsame couch in order to inflict suffering in the most efficient manner possible. The tactician in Misato was impressed. The rest of Misato was trying to figure out what the boy was doing with a metal bat in his hand. "Do you two have any idea what time it is?" Misato was fairly sure she said.

"Quarter after five." Only Shinji could manage to keep his voice at just the right pitch to be audible without setting off her hangover while fighting for his life. "Sorr-waaagh!"

Asuka was less subtle; attempting to hold Shinji behind her back as though he were a naughty puppy she was hoping to keep her guardian from finding out about for a few more days. Throwing on her most charming smile, Asuka offered, "Why, ah, Misato! Well, you're up bright and early. And when we have off from school, too. Uh...um...planning some sort of...family...activity?"

Asuka actually referring to their little sideshow as a family would have stuck in Misato's head if she wasn't busy watching poor Shinji doing his best blowfish impression. In the redhead's haste to hide the evidence, she had managed to pin the boy in a...compromising position and Shinji, being Shinji, weakly struggled to remove his hand from Asuka's rear end while trying not to blush and stammer audibly, less he meet a terrible fate. Normally, Misato tried to help the boy out when he stumbled into something like this, as a way to mitigate some of the guilt that came from her favorite hobby of teasing the kid, but it was five in the morning. She couldn't help it. Misato Katsuragi laughed; a wild, free laugh that was laced with what more well adjusted observers would recognize as the kind of love you only realize exists when you stare at your kids roughhousing at five o'clock in the morning on your only day off.

As for Shinji and Asuka? They looked at eachother, utterly confused, and shared a shrug. "She's probably still wasted." Asuka decided, while casually flipping Shinji over on his backside for taking liberties.

Shinji, who was happy to be left off with the redhead's equivalent of a warning considering how badly she could've interpreted his struggles to get free, just groaned in agreement.

* * *

"So, why were you up that early, anyway?" A strangely upbeat Shinji Ikari asked his roommate as they walked through the city.

The Second Child was immediately suspicious; a happy Shinji is a dangerous Shinji, after all. "I...don't see how that's any of your business, Third." She snipped off in her nastiest, bitch queen of the universe tone of voice. That'll show 'em. And then, as if in direct defiance of her internal decree, Shinji Ikari chuckled. Not the hesitant, sickly little laugh he'd sometimes force out when social pressure demanded he find something funny, but an actual, factual, 'I think you're funny, Langley.' laugh. "...what's so damn funny, Third Child?!"

Shinji couldn't help but roll his eyes, glad that he didn't have a title or a middle name for Asuka to use when she was feeling 'serious'. "Nothing important." Shinji attempted to mollify, holding his hands up in preemptive surrender, "You, ah, just didn't seem the type to care what people thought about what you liked." The Third Child mistook the look on Asuka's face for some new level of anger he had managed to reach, rather than the confusion it really was, and reacted appropriately, "N-not that I mind! I mean, hey, I think we all have a cartoon or two we still like to watch, you, um, know? I just, uh."

"Cut it out before you hurt yourself, Ikari." Asuka deadpanned, frogging him in the shoulder in order to show that he was (mostly) forgiven. "And for the /record/, that was a coincidence. I just couldn't sleep."

"Whatever you say, Asuka." Shinji said in what he believed was a pacifying tone of voice, but what Asuka knew was a subtly mocking tone of voice, the kind of voice he used when he committed something to memory, a little humiliating piece of her he'd spend time in that dark little room of his owning, looking at it, laughing at it, maybe even share with his loser friends because it's his to do with as he pleases, oh that JERK! "Is everything okay?" Asking if she's okay, that insensitive...!

"Fine!" Asuka said with more embarrassment and less venom than she had meant, "Ah, I mean, yeah. Just one of those...girl things, you know?"

Shinji didn't, but he was smart enough to nod his head anyway. Besides, Misato hadn't given him much choice about how he was spending his day off...

"I don't want to hear any backtalk!" Misato imperiously declared, kicking her feet up on the table as some sort of animalistic confirmation of her dominance in the situation, "I can't believe you've never been to a sleep-over, kiddo. I just plain wouldn't be doing my job if I let this opportunity go!"

"It's not that uncommon." Shinji stubbornly insisted, "I mean, I don't think it was really done all that much when I was younger, what with Second Impact and all..." The Third looked towards Asuka for some sign of support.

And was promptly rewarded with a snort of desertion from redhead lane, "Please, Shinji, stop trying to cover up for yourself. You're a social recluse!" Asuka shrugged as if talking about the weather, "I mean/I/ went to dozens of slumber parties back in Germany! Yep. Scores, even! Do you even know what a score is, Ikari?!"

"Really?" Misato scratched her head, "I don't remember you going out much at all when I was living with you back in Germany..."

"It was a slow year." Asuka said with terrible swiftness and a grind of her teeth.

"Twenty." Shinji contributed.

"Twenty what?" Asuka blinked a few times, before scowling, "Just what are you implying, Third Child? That I'm making it up? That I never really had friends until NERV moved me to this hole of a town, but I'm too proud to admit it? That what happened at school is basically what happened my entire life, except Hikari for some crazy reason stuck around?" The ranting redhead crossed her arms and defiantly flipped her hair at Shinji, "Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Shinji, but just because you and Wondergirl have the same issues doesn't mean I do too! Talk about your assumptions..."

"Twenty." Shinji would normally have apologized, but Asuka used the 'w' word, "Is how much is in a score, overcompensating Sally."

"I'll sally you, you..." Asuka blinked, once, the finger she was pointing in the fiend Ikari's face drooping like a sick plant when she realized, oh yeah, she had challenged him to tell her what a score was. While Asuka usually had little to no problem blaming her enemies for things they did not do, things they might be doing, things they were thinking of doing, and things she figures they will do eventually, yelling for doing something she asked him to do seemed a little over the top. She blamed the lack of sleep. "...sorry."

Shinji, for his part, was briefly tempted to pretend not to hear the minute ghost of a whisper that was Asuka's apology, but figured the overcompensating line was pushing it. "Not a big deal. Misato had us both kind of flustered. She's way too good at that..."

"Or maybe we're just too easily flustered." Asuka muttered philosophically. "...do you feel a draft, Shinji?"

Ikari the younger blinked, once, and took a quick look around their surroundings. Outside of the apartment. With a sticky note on the door saying, 'Have fun kids!'. "No, Asuka, do you?"

...shaking his head, Shinji returned to the present with a solemn vow to never forget Misato's special operations training again. He was faintly surprised to see that Asuka was still walking alongside him. He supposed Hikari and Toji lived closer to eachother than he had originally thought, which made sense in a way. After all, the two of them, along with Kensuke, were supposed to have been pretty close back when they were in grade school.

"He-llooo?" A slender hand, far too smooth considering how often the owner used it, interrupted Shinji's privacy by shaking itself wildly in front of his face. "Are you even listening to me?"

"I'm pretty sure this is the way to Toji's house." Shinji answered rotely, idly wondering why he was attempting to fool the redhead. Latent masochism? "I thought Hikari lived a few blocks over?"

"She does, but the invitation said it'd be at a friend's house." Asuka chewed her lower lip out of nervousness, a deplorable habit; immediately, in order to reassert her control over herself, Asuka indulged in another bad habit, and lightly smacked Shinji upside the head.

"Ow!" Shinji squeaked, "What was that for?"

"You got a lucky guess. If you had really been listening, you would've stuttered more." Asuka replied, figuring that one half-truth deserves another. "Besides, the way you were talking, it sounded like you were getting sick of being in my presence..."

"Oh, wow, I don't know how you could ever think that...ow! No fair using your nails!"

* * *

"Well, as...nice...as the conversation's been..." Shinji trailed off, rubbing his sore head and hoping he didn't bruise. "...this is Toji's apartment. Um, have a good time with Hikari and...whoever else is, uh, there...?" Shinji desperately resisted the urge to frown; he could tell Asuka was a little nervous about the whole thing, and part of him wanted to help, or at least let her know he cared. The rest of him did not want to get slapped upside the head again, though, and besides, if Asuka wanted some support, she'd ask, right? No, a stubborn part of Shinji insisted, she wouldn't ask, she'd sit around refusing to acknowledge the need out of sheer stubbornness until she got distracted by a video game. In the short time you've known the girl, this treacherous part of Shinji's mind continued to rave, has she ever just come out and said anything? You had to just walk over and start helping her with those kanji, or she'd still be getting Cs because she can't read the questions. Way to pay attention, Ikari!

"No, it's not." Askua said in a damningly neutral tone of voice. Shinji felt a shiver of cold sweat drip down his spine. Did he accidently say some of that out loud? Did she know what he was thinking? Was she just so evil that she had to pick NOW, of all times, to let those emotional walls crumble just a little bit and admit she's human like the rest of us? Should he have brought breath spray? "This is the address Hikari sent me." Oh.

"Well, um, I don't mean to disagree with you," Shinji pulled on his collar, allowing him a little more room to breathe. "But I've been to Toji's apartment before, and this is it."

"Oh like you know anything." Asuka sassed, crossing her arms across her chest and looking grumpy, "Hikari never makes mistakes on little stuff like that, it's how she keeps from snapping like a dry twig in Elephant country. How many times a week do you get knocked out, anyway? I'm surprised you remember your own name, Ikari."

"W-what does that have to do with anything?!" Shinji found himself shouting, "Not everything in life has to do with piloting Eva, you know!"

Asuka spun around at once, the thrill of impending victory causing her cheeks to flush as she poked Shinji in the nose, "Ha! You admit your inferiority as a pilot! Sure, you're lucky, and you've got some natural talent, but no skill baby! You're all flash and headbutts, and you admit it! Hao hao hao!"

Shinji blinked, once, unsure of how exactly to react to this. "...I think my record speaks for itself." Ikari deadpanned, deciding to let Asuka interpret that any way she wanted, "'Hao hao hao'?"

"It sure does, Shinji." Asuka answered warily, not entirely sure if he was agreeing with her or not. She can be vague too, see? Ha! "...and a public personality needs to have an easily recognizable, yet unique, laugh. I'm just doing what's best for my fans."

"Movin' back ta'Germany?" The gruff, but not unfriendly voice of Toji Suzuhara interrupted, "Didn't know you hadda charitable bone in ya, Langley." The flat-topped jock blinked once, and a goofy grin spread out over his face as he realized he had experienced a case of accidental wit. "Hah, bonnnnnoooww!"

Hikari Horaki, being a long time veteran of the trench warfare that is a public education system, had learned long ago that the best way to break up a fight was to prevent one; in this case, a sharp tug of the ear was all that she needed to keep Suzuhara from finishing his sentence, and another day was saved! "Guys, you made it!" Hikari enthused, "Come on in, we were just about to order a pizza." While she didn't have to struggle much to keep Suzuhara subdued, she was faintly surprised to see that neither Pilot had...moved at all, really.

Synchronization was a complicated process. This is a fact, but not especially informative, sort of like saying, "This liquid is wet." or "I'm fine to drive, I only had one!"; if calling these statements dangerously underdetailed seems to be overstating the point, consider that a glass of water and a glass of acid are both liquid and wet, but achieve very different results when drunk. Not to mention the time Major Katsuragi thought she could drive after "Just one." bottle of tequila. So, in the interest of the health and safety of others; synchronization is achieved when the A-10 nerves line up just so, allowing two minds to become compatible for a brief flash of bioelectric energy, similar to synapses firing. In the case of two conscious minds, a synchronized connection could be seen as a special bond, such as what exists between twins, close friends, siblings, pets and their owners, and many other relationships. The whole idea of, "I can feel what you're thinking or feeling or about to do." stems from the brief interaction between these nerves. Evangelion Pilots are unique because their A-10 nerves were slightly mutated, presumably as a reaction to Second Impact; their capacity to synchronize is expanded, refined, and can be enhanced even further with the right kind of technology. An unseen zip of electricity between a conscious Pilot and an unconscious Evangelion allows the Pilot to step into the Eva's boots, feeling the robot's pain, sharing in its strength, and ultimately being able to direct the biomechanical monster in a way that benefits humanity. There are numerous side effects that come from piloting the Eva, though how many of them are simply because of pilot personality, and how many are really because of the science remains to be seen.

This is why Shinji Ikari and Asuka Langley Soryu's respective hairdos both stood up straight, as though the pilots were lightly shocked by some kind of ball of static electricity, as they rang out in almost eerie chorus, "Y-You're living in sin!"

* * *

It was all Kensuke could do to keep from falling out of his chair. He couldn't help it! The two newcomers still looked shell-shocked at the very concept of being there, Toji looked terrified that he'd set Das Kaiser Langley off again or, even worse, force Hikari to intervene, the Class Rep in question was alternating between shooting him "subtle" stern gazes and trying to suppress her own giggles, and Shinji still looked like he came in off of the set of an episode of Dragonball Cubed! How could you not find that funny?

"I do not understand, Aida, what is so amusing about Ikari's discomfort."

Well, Kensuke mentally amended, you could always be Ayanami. That girl was ice...no, Kensuke amended, rubbing his chin and giving his mental picture of Rei a look with a photographer's eye. Shinji was right about her, you just had to be paying attention; the way she said 'Aida' was stressed juuust enough to almost be a threat to knock his block off if he didn't shut up, without Rei having to stoop to saying it so bluntly. In a way, Kensuke could really respect that kind of skill. In another way, "Pft-Ayanami, relax! Anything that starts with Shinji looking like that, goes on to have Toji turn beat red and Hikari try and give the both of them, 'The Talk'...how can anyone not laugh at that?"

The slight twinge in Ayanami's visible eye, the other one being covered by the girl's long bangs, could be disapproval. Or boredom. Or hunger. Or all consuming carnal lust. Kensuke bet on one of the first two, though. "I seem to be managing."

"Fair enough." Kensuke conceded, still smiling but managing to suppress his case of the giggles for now. "You should give laughing a try once in a while, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Why?" The albino replied just a little too apathetically for it to be genuine, "Because it is expected of a...girl my age?"

Kensuke shrugged, idly flipping his camera on just in time to catch Hikari putting Toji and Asuka in a double headlock with a reverse ear pull combination. "Nah. Keeps away wrinkles."

"If." Hikari huffed, "You two." Hikari puffed. "Would just _let me talk_." Hikari, briefly, wished she could blow the house in. But she was a good girl, who had a responsibility to make sure things went off without anyone killing eachother.

"What's there to talk about?!" Asuka bellowed, alternating between struggling with the headlock and trying to pry Hikari's hand off of her ear, "Obviously um...these stooges tricked you and Wondergirl here in some intricate plan to take advantage of your innocence, and followed it up with some kind of crazy brainwashing to make sure they got the ripest plum of all...me! Well, nothin' doin, sister, not even Wondergirl's insidious black ops training could make me want to touch the jock or the nerd!"

"Which one," Ayanami asided, presumably to Kensuke, "Is the nerd?"

"Me." Kensuke noted with a strange sort of pride, "Shinji's the dork. More intimate. You had black ops training?"

"We'd never ask you ta'commit adultery, Devil!" Toji snapped back, managing to shake a fist at Asuka...only to have his head 'accidentally' smacked into the table by an irate Hikari, a gentle reminder that he was not helping the situation any. "So stop flatterin yerself!"

"All Evangelion pilots are required to undergo some basic anti-espionage training. It is a security measure, and is thought to increase one's ability to act in the Evangelion." Rei answered, letting her chin rest on her arms, which were resting on the table as though she were anticipating the inevitable onslaught of Kensuke's curiosity, "Both the Second and I have been in the employ of NERV since we were children. I assume she has been sufficiently trained, though the specifics are classified for security reasons. Ikari, being a more recent acquisition, has had minimal training."

"Huh." Kensuke surprised Rei, and perhaps himself, by keeping his camera on the entertainment and his demeanor casual. It was the most he had heard the mysterious First Child say...ever, and Aida figured that responding with enthusiasm would just convince her that silence was golden. "My dad took a few tai chi classes with me, before work started eating up all of his time. Nothing fancy, but it keeps me in shape."

"I'll flatten you!" Askua threatened, "...and what was that about sufficient, First?! I'll have you know I have a black belt in three martial arts! What've you got, a merit badge for most visits to the infirmary?"

"Asuka!" That seemed to snap Shinji out of his funk, the Third Child even stood up, though he was cut off by the most unlikely of sources.

That being Rei herself, "As I had said, Langley." Ayanami coolly countered, "The specifics of the NERV-Japan training regimen are classified for security reasons. Perhaps you would wish to spar sometime? I am certain neither of us wishes to get...rusty." The First Child allowed herself the tiniest shadow of a smile, before finally adding, "Do you truly believe Commander Ikari would allow either of us to be compromised in such a fashion?"

Asuka's beliefs in regards to Commander Ikari did not have a chance to be stated as silence stepped into office, holding the reigns of power over the room as the children digested the fact that Rei Ayanami had just used two paragraphs in a row. Hikari, always a bright, observant girl, seized the opportunity to explain, "A-hem. Asuka, Shinji, Toji, Kensuke and I have been doing this since we were six." The girl blinked, once, and blushed in spite of herself. "Um, the sleep-over, I mean, not...the sin bit. Because we're not doing that. At all. Ever. Stop smirking, Aida. It's just, um, sort of a tradition! And I knew you and Ayanami and Ikari don't get to go on any of the field trips, so..."

"Oh." Shinji had finally finished taming the electric forest of his hair, "That makes sense. Um. Sorry for the trouble..."

"Yeah, yeah." Asuka groused, secretly glad that Shinji had taken the bullet with the requisite saying of the "s" word. He was good for that sort of thing. Not that he could speak for her, mind, like they were some sort of crazy partnership. He was just...useful! Like a sidekick. Yeah, that works. There was, of course, the question of why Hikari had even invited Wondergirl, let alone why Miss Most likely To Need A Personality Transplant bothered to come. If only she had some polite way to ask the ice queen. Oh, wait! "Hey, Wondergirl, since when do you go outside anyway?"

"As NERV facilities are closed to underage personnel as well as civilians, the Commander thought it prudent for me to..." Rei trailed off, not entirely sure how to put it. "...get out of the house, I suppose. As my research has determined that gradual integration into the any society is best, this seemed the most logical venue to begin my carrying out of his order."

"I think she just insulted us." Kensuke noted, zooming his camera in on whatever the thing living in Toji's ceiling was.

Shinji, who was used to this sort of thing, interjected, "Wait, my dad said that?" The Third Child blinked, once. "My dad gave people a day off?"

"Company picnic." Hikari explained, shooing Toji out of the room with a fistful of yen notes and a note explaining, in detail, what pizza toppings to get. "Tokyo-03's basically a company town, attendance is mandatory, so, lots of people had their children stay together for safety's sake. It sort of evolved into a local tradition. Hey, Shinji, could you help me in the kitchen? I'm having trouble with the dip, and..."

"Oh, sure." Shinji wondered, briefly, how Toji felt about Hikari's unspoken coup of his own apartment. He couldn't help but admire the Class Rep; she was trapped on the sidelines of the Angel War, with a front row seat for all the horror, pain, destruction, and suffering the Angels, and mankind's Faustian defenders, the Evangelions, caused. She had no real way of affecting it, or her chances of being squished in another siege of the Fortress-City, but the girl still managed to take care of her family, her class, and herself without showing anything but grace under pressure. -well, Shinji amended, outside of the occasional headlock. Plus she was, like, the only girl he knew who could cook better than him, which did wonders for what little masculine pride Shinji possessed. Briefly depressed by the memory of there being a time in his life when abrupt headlocks weren't an expected part of everyday life, the Third Child ambled upwards, following Hikari into the Suzuhara family kitchen.

"Well," Asuka huffed, slightly insulted that she didn't get picked first to be Hikari's little helper. Burn one pot of water, and they think you're a Katsuragi or something..."That explains why Misato wanted us out of the house so quick. So..." The Second Child trailed off, looking at the bored, apathetic face of Rei Ayanami, the bored, apathetic face of Kensuke Aida, and the strange thing living in Toji's ceiling that her fellow teenagers apparently thought was more worthy of their attention than her. Hmmph! "Yeah, I can smell the intellectual stimulation. Suzuhara doesn't have a PlayCube, does he? I brought a few games..."

"Well." Kensuke drawled, switching his camera off and kicking his feet up on the table, "Normally, I'd be glad to help you out, but I don't think Toji would ever forgive me if I let you, y'know, girl up his TV with one of those magical pony princess games..."

Had Mr. Aida been a little more knowledgeable about how sharks look upon smelling blood in the water, the grin on Asuka's face might have warned him. "Oh, really? Well, gosh, and here I was hoping you'd be up for a little wager..."

* * *

"Women." Toji Suzuhara lamented as he plodded down the city street, idly keeping track of a stone he had managed to keep kicking for a whole block, now. How did Hikari talk him into becoming her errand boy, anyway? It would've been different if she had been lowdown about it, batter her eyelashes or swiveled her hips or any of those things girls did to convince guys to do stuff they didn't wanna on the TV. The Class Rep? Stuffs a list in his hand and shoves him out the door like it was his job or something. And...

You didn't make it to fourteen in the post-Second Impact world without learning a thing or two about living on the street. Even the relatively prosperous Tokyo-03 had its share of dangers, human, animal and other that would prey on anyone foolish enough to let them. The vague prickling on the back of Toji's neck warned him that the vague sense of being watched wasn't just his imagination; forcing himself to keep casual, Toji hunched over a little more and abruptly cut to the left, pacing quickly down an alleyway. An icy sliver of sweat crawled down his spine as he heard the faint clip clop of a pair of mary janes against the pavement; thinking quickly, Toji kicked off the side of a building, desperately grabbing onto a fire escape! After all, he reasoned, whoever it is can't follow me if the ladder isn't down, and with a great groan, Suzuhara attempted to shove himself up the railing as the clip clopping methodically came closer and closer, like some kind of pedestrian timer marking how much time was left...

"Suzuhara. Please slow down." Rei Ayanami said in a slightly more agitated voice than usual, "This is a new uniform, and I do not wish to soil it."

"Ayana-" With a waugh, Toji's grip finished slipping, sending the jock head over heels into a heap of old, worn out furniture, garbage bags, and a faintly slimy substance that Toji wasn't too keep on identifying. Groaning softly, Suzuhara forced his body into a sitting position, meeting the First Child's placid gaze. Well, not really placid, now that Toji thought about it, just reserved...she looks a little grossed out, and a little expectant. Expectant?! Where does this chick get off?! "-mi." Toji finished, smacking his lips in an effort to get the grungy taste out, "Wuz it you the whole time?"

"Yes." Quoth the Ayanami, gently moving her hand to, Toji realized, offer him a hand getting up.

Not a man to spit kindness in the eye, Toji accepted, coughing a little and looking more sheepish than anything. "Should I ask why you dinnt say anything?"

"No." Rei replied, brow furrowing minutely as she concentrated on helping heft Toji's clumsy body out of the heap. There was a little struggle, but the boy managed to extract himself without getting caught on anything, tripping, or managing to fall on the girl. After her experience with Ikari, Rei couldn't help but find the lack of such an accident strange. Unnerving either. Or maybe she was just rationalizing finding someone as kind as Ikari's foibles humorous. Reflection on this will be necessary...

As for Toji, he just sort of blinked a few times, as if he was having trouble coming to terms with the entire situation. "...too much estrogen in da room, huh?"

"Tactful as ever, Suzuhara." Ayanami answered in what, Toji had come to learn thanks to insight from Shinji, would be an almost merry tone of voice where she any other girl. "I had thought you would need assistance carrying the comestibles."

"I'm sure da'Kaiser's bein' in rare form dinnt have a thing t'do wit it." Toji drawled, accentuating his accent as was his habit when feeling talked down to. He blamed the quirk on too many childhood jokes about 'Kansai hicks' and his own poorly hidden sensitive streak; he was surprised at the brief flash of guilt on Ayanami's face, more that she figured the gag out that quickly than any real malice towards the girl. Toji then wondered when, exactly, the mysterious First Child had become familiar enough that he could start to pick up her subtle way of emoting without Ikari there to serve as translator. Deciding it really didn't matter, Suzuhara gave a mighty shrug, brushed a soda can off of his shoulder, and promptly resumed walking down the alley. "Well, t'anks den. We's gotta hit the video store first. Gotta list..." Toji held up a memo pad that showed Hikari's flawless handwritten orders, "...but onna da benefits of bein da pack mule, y'see, is dat if we don't like th'movie in question...well, it ain't our fault if they was out, yeah?" Toji followed this up with a smirk and a wink, hoping that it would convey to Rei that he wasn't really mad, or at least get the girl to stop looking subtly guilty like that. It was like Shinji's whipped puppy expression with the mute button on.

"Acknowledged." Rei replied in the same tone she'd reply to orders from NERV command. For a second, Toji could swear he say the tiniest ghost of a smile on the albino girl's face, but decided it'd be kinda creepy if he stared trying to figure it out, and put the trouble out of his mind.

* * *

"So, Shinji..." Hikari resisted the urge to sigh. Poor, poor Shinji. ...not that Hikari didn't love Asuka, of course. While not the easiest person to be friends with, there was just something about the redhead that struck Hikari as being with a kindred spirit, someone who, despite superficial differences, really understood what the other person was all about, and complimented eachother's true inner selves. Now what, exactly, that link between the girls was...

"VICTORY!" Bellowed Das Redhead, "In yo FACE, Aida! Watch me dance! Watch me dance! What dance? Victory dance! Yo yo yo!"

...Hikari had no idea, but privately assumed it was Asuka's depressingly well hidden softer side. Obviously. Yes. But that brought Hikari back to her original subject; while Major Katsuragi and Asuka both had their positive points, they didn't exactly provide an...understanding household for such a shy, sensitive young man. The Class Rep's heart went out to the boy, part of the reason she gave the Stooges as much slack as she did these days, who was so burdened by the weight of his responsibilities that, right now, all he could do is stare into the depths of the mixing bowl, likely finding poetic parallel between the impermanence of its filling, it's ultimately hollow nature, and the status of his very soul! Hikari considered herself a compassionate person, one who sought authority because she cared enough to want to help people, rather than for the electric, delicious, but ultimately spiritually unsatisfying thrill of near absolute power over delinquents and those who would oppose her. It was why Rei ultimately got an invite, for no matter how intimidating her silence could be, or how powerful Asuka's objections, Hikari simply refused to see the girl spend her first weekend free from being shown off at the NERV company picnic like a prize pig spent alone in her disgrace of an apartment with absolutely no one to talk to! It was also one of the reasons she asked for Ikari's help getting a few of the snacks for tonight ready; the boy's hangdog expression was obvious to her, and he simply needed some time to mope in peace with, if necessary, an understanding shoulder to cry on. There was no residual guilt from the various times she'd let Asuka get away with keeping him on a short, spiked leash in public, or any feeling of hypocrisy for not reaching out to the boy sooner. She was just being a good person! The fact that Shinji hadn't moved since he had come into the kitchen just proved that he needed the emotional me-time, Hikari decided. Yes, yes, everything was going along swimm...oh, wait. "Yes?" Hikari offered, looking compassionately, but not confrontationally so, into the Third Child's eyes.

"Sorry, I mumble." Shinji admitted, a little red faced. "I, uh, said, where do you want me to get started? The cookie batter I was looking at seems great...I, um, probably would've added a little extra baking soda, I mean, it helps them keep fresh, but I sort of didn't want to presume since, y'know, you're the one with the experience here, so I figured it'd, uh..." Shinji trailed off, wondering what he did wrong. Or maybe, he thought ruefully, some girls actually let you finish a sentence. What a novelty. "...be more polite to just ask you."

Hikari blinked owlishly, her natural good grace keeping her mouth from hanging open. "...so you weren't, um, contemplating the darkest depths of your soul?"

"Not really, no." Shinji answered, an utterly innocent look on his face. "I did think some dark chocolate chips might, uh, make the cookies a little more interesting. As good as the classics are, variety is the spice of life, right? Um. Not to be presumptuous or anything."

"...great idea!" Hikari smiled, brightly, trying not to whack herself upside the head. Well, that was the other reason she had asked for his help; in spite of himself, Shinji Ikari was a heck of a cook. And actually polite about it. When contrasted with her other friends, let alone the army barracks-style dinners at home, the Class Rep found the Third Child's attitude positively refreshing. "Could you take a look at the dip? I didn't want to get too complicated, what with Toji's sensitive stomach and all..."

"T-toji has a sensitive stomach?"

Huh, he does laugh after all, Hikari reflected, and let a sincere smile slip through. "Well, let me tell you about the time Kensuke convinced him to eat a plate of play-doh sushi, and I'll let you decide for yourself..."

* * *

Jock senses...tingling...Toji frowned, slightly, crossing his arms and wondering if he would have to clobber any of his fellow stooges tonight. Both had something of a weakness in the face of the enemy, which is to say, girls, or more specifically, one girl. While the Red Devil was a vicious, clever foe, Toji Suzuhara had known his true nemesis since pre-kindergarten. Yes, the enemy...wore pigtails. Revenge, that most masculine of activities, would have to be contemplated, mused, and eventually implemented. Or at least the first two, Toji wryly thought to himself as he rubbed his still sore earlobe. "Any luck, Ayanami?"

"I am unsure," Came the mildly perplexed voice of Rei Ayanami, professional enigma, as she furrowed her brows at the piece of paper she was holding, "What category to begin searching for...'Turning The Tables: Authority Figures In "H" Trouble.'...as I am unfamiliar with the program."

Suzuhara blinked once, furrowing his own, significantly larger brows, and turned to read over Rei's shoulder. She obviously misread it, Toji thought to himself, nodding before realizing that, no, some joker really did put that title on the movie list.

"Suzuhara." Rei noted with clinical efficiency, "Your face is becoming discolored. Have you come down with an unexpected fever?"

"Let's..." Toji invoked all of his manly muscle to avoid coughing wildly at the implication, there, "...um, just...forget about dat one. I think it's onna Kensuke's art house films, and the last thing we need is him and the Devil getting innanodder 'political debate'. Hikari'd never forgive us for letting that happen...let alone my pop..."

Rei paused for a moment, reflecting on the last time Aida and Langley expressed their political views in a public forum. "I suppose you are correct." The First Child noted, the ghost of a smile upturning her lips slightly.

Toji resisted the urge to shudder, returning his attentions to The List. "Why don't youse pick a movie, Ayanami, since we're...uh...dispensing with the indie flick?"

"I..." Rei paused, and Toji couldn't help but think that he made a mistake. The First Child, on first glance, seemed as cool and distant from the world as ever, an icy, unmovable constant in the chaotic life of Tokyo-03. It was the second glance that the simple action of making eye contact when speaking forced Toji to take that worried him, as it forced him to notice the subtleties; the widening of her eyes, the haphazard interlacing of her fingers, the fragile downturn of her lips, the slight hunch of her back...it took Toji another moment to realize it, but the fact hit him as soundly as his last revelation about an Evangelion pilot. Shinji looked the same way whenever he was trapped in a social situation...especially back in the early days...a kind of quiet, choking fear that froze its victim dead in her tracks. Toji had no idea what to do, or if he even should do anything. Could he be imagining it?

"Blazing Saddles."

"Excuse me?" Toji found himself talking to the clerk; a mousy young woman, couldn't be more than a few years older than them, pale enough that Toji might have mistaken her for an albino like Ayanami were it not for the pitch black hair that fell down loosely around her shoulders. The woman wore slightly oversized black clothing, a large pair of coke bottle glasses, and a smile that seemed out of place when compared to her monotone taste in appearance.

"Well, you kids look like you're having some sort of movie night." The clerk motioned at the sizeable pile of films snugly secured under Toji's arm, "And it's one of those movies everybody likes. There's cowboys, and gunfights, and social commentary, and flatulence jokes!" The girl pauses, blushing a little. "Um, sorry, that means-"

"I know what it means." Toji said a little too quickly, holding his hands up as if to ward off evil spirits, "And tank you fer the advice, but..."

"Yes."

I'm getting conversationally ambushed way too often, Toji lamented as he turned, boggle eyed, to Ayanami. "You sure?"

She wasn't. But it was better than the alternative. "It will be...an experience."

* * *

"Pizza's here! An' watch out, cuz holy smokes!"

"Aida." A brief, probing pause. "Please assist us in carrying the comestibles."

Kensuke demurely adjusted the hem of his skirt, wishing it covered his legs a little better, and grabbed half of the steaming stack of pizzas from his still-speechless best friend. He was obviously going mad, Kensuke thought, because Ayanami wouldn't check a man in a girl's school uniform out, or if she did, it would be entirely for scientific purposes. Reis just don't work that way, he reasoned. "How was your trip?"

"Intriguing." Rei noted, coolly hanging her jacket and a few of the bags on Toji's frozen shoulder, freeing up her arms to relieve him of the burden of the remaining hot food, "Ikari's summery of Suzuhara's personality was relatively accurate, which is in and of itself unusual, as he normally judges others too leniently."

"Everyone except himself." Kensuke agreed, shutting the door with a swing of his hips. He would not admit, not to Ayanami, Langley, or even Toji, that the skirt made such an action almost fun, sort of like playing with a hula hoop. "Even if you tell him he's nice, he'll just say that it's insincere, because he does it to avoid trouble."

"Do you agree?" Ayanami asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Sometimes." Kensuke admitted, largely because he was vaguely afraid that Rei would be able to tell if he lied by listening to his heart rate or something, "But I think he's more likely to just walk around a situation he doesn't like, or pretend it isn't there. He's not a confrontational guy...very often, at least...but his thinking optimistically about people doesn't have much to do with that, if you look at it from enough of a distance. Just because a virtue can be convenient doesn't mean it's not a virtue, I guess I mean." For some reason, Kensuke felt that it was probably a good idea to stop hustling and even stop bustling, until Rei had decided how she felt about his answer.

The First Child's reaction might have been a nod, or a shrug, Kensuke couldn't tell, and a swing of her own hips, so as to hold the door to the main room open for Kensuke. "Why the skirt?"

"Never gamble with gloating Germans." Kensuke advised, giving the statue formerly known as Toji a look to indicate that, yes, he was leaving it at that, no matter how many headlocks Suzuhara put him into.

* * *

Shinji Ikari did not like being touched; it seemed a little milquetoasty of him to think of it like that, but it was the closest thing to accuracy he could manage. It's not like he had a complex or anything, so saying he hated being touched felt like it was a little too strong, involving too much conviction. On the other hand, some watered down version of the phrase, like he 'wasn't big on touching' or whatever, seemed to be selling out, acting like it was just some personal preference, ignoring the sick shivers that ran through his flesh every time someone fostered physical contact on him...

"Szznort!" Toji Suzuhara snored, and Shinji felt those shivers as his friend's leg, which was resting on the Third Child's head, shifted a little in sleep. To Shinji's right, he could hear Hikari Horaki moan softly from where she stumbled to sleep...he could only pray that he was out of range when she discovered she had fallen against Toji's lap...her precariously placed elbow grinding against Shinji's neck, slightly. The mind numbing horror of this twin attack seemed like a reprieve, when Shinji contemplated the weights on his right and left shoulder; to his right, Asuka's softly snoring form leaned against his, the Second having apparently subconsciously decided that he made an acceptable pillow so long as she didn't have to be facing him, and to his left, Ayanami...Ayanami, of all people!...had mirrored the motion from a little farther away, the cause being less contempt and more the simple laws of motion-when you fall asleep sitting down, you tend to lean over to one side or another.

Shinji supposed that he should be happy that the girl didn't fall the other way and crack her head open on Toji's freshly washed tile floor, if only for the sake of his inner neat freak. But it had been three hours since the last film had ended, all boasts, brags, and bets about staying up all night apparently made null and void by the fact that the only one who opted out of the game was the only one left awake, stuck the gently buzzing sound of the television set's static as the only thing to distract him from the wriggling fishhooks of personal contact with his friends, and all Shinji could think of were increasingly complex plans to find some way to end his loathsome existence without inconveniencing anyone else in the room. Unfortunately, Ayanami seemed to be a light sleeper, and there was always the matter of staining Toji's apartment with the foul, brackish fluid that could be mistaken for human blood if you didn't know the Third Child very well. He had thought giving up the couch for the cheap seat on the floor would have avoided a situation like this; sure, he had to sit in the middle, and Toji's socks were particularly pungent that night, but it mend ending the fight that had broken out over who would have to give up said couch, which couldn't fit six people even if one of them didn't have some minor issues regarding his personal space. It had seemed the sort of thing a proper guest does; Shinji remembered shrugging, plopping down on the floor, and turning the TV on before anyone could try to talk him out of it.

And then Rei took a moment to raise an eyebrow at Asuka, and proceeded to gently sit down next to him, about an arm's length away, nestled against the couch's bottom cushions. Shinji didn't think anything of it, as Ayanami dug her privacy too, until Asuka did this strange little 'hmmph!' sound, crossed her arms, and managed to, and Shinji wasn't exactly sure how she worked out these deals with the laws of physics, plop down on his opposite side with a distasteful glance, a 'keep your hands where I can see them, Ikari.' glare, and a smug little smile on her face, all of which managed to be conveyed without setting off Hikari's delicate trouble senses, as Shinji was fairly sure Asuka did not want another 'Kindness, friendship, and understanding!' headlock. But it was still okay, because he still had his personal space, and no one was touching him.

Six back to back movies in a row left Shinji in his present condition, at that terrible time between exhaustion and utter sleeplessness, when his defenses against the cruel tricks his own brain played on him were at their lowest, and worst of all, his mind had nothing else to do but wander. Still, what little remained of Shinji's inner optimist argued, it's not all bad. At least...

The inner voice was cut off by the fwap of Kensuke Aida's hand, accidentally striking Shinji Ikari right in the face as the freckled boy tossed and turned in fitful slumber. Shinji took a moment to appreciate the irony of the situation; something that held no real pleasure for him put him at the center of a web of people, the lowest common denominator of interpersonal connections. Idly wondering if he would ever truly be able to escape from the specter of his duties as the Third Child, pilot of Evangelion Unit-01, Shinji closed his eyes and attempted to simply block out the stimulation, hoping the effort would lull him to sleep.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Sunlight. Sunlight? Of course it's sunny. Morning. Got to get up. They'll be wanting breakfast. They might realize that they can pour a bowl of cereal themselves if he doesn't hurry, and then they'd have no use for him and he'd be stuck watching the train vanish again and Shinji hated mornings. The sun persisting on stabbing into his eyes was bad enough, but this hot, heavy feeling, something he had thought he'd grown used to in the endless summer of Post-Second Impact Japan, it was like he was wearing a wool blanket on a hundred degree day. Maybe he was sick?

Or maybe, Shinji thought as he peeked an eye open, it's this big heavy tarp that's over my body. Groaning softly, the Third Child pushed the plastic-feeling material away from his face, wincing again at what he could now identify as flashlights, rather than the cursed sun, blaring in his eyes. The faint murmurs of People were all around him, but further away than usual, as if some cone of silence had been erected to keep anyone from standing too close to him. Idly, Shinji wondered if this was what it felt like to be Ayanami and then, he looked down.

Rubbing his eyes, Shinji looked again. And again. And again. Hey, drowsiness can be a chronic problem, right? Right. Wrong. There really was the pale form of Professor Fuyutsuki laying on the ground, eyes wide, mouth partially opened, and a big, cherry red hole in his chest. "That." Shinji said in a voice that seemed too deep to be coming from someone like him, "Is one dead body allright."

A thick thump, and then the world irised out...

* * *

Notes: Well, there it is. Chapter one. I'm hoping to post chapter two in a week or two, depending on how quickly my rough draft goes. I want to stay at least two rough chapters ahead, so I don't end up not updating for a month or six. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Ikari..." Go away, voices in my head. I've got a hangover.

"I-k-a-riiii..." Okay, so Shinji had never been hung over in his whole life, and probably never would, what with the fighting monsters in a giant hate machine and what not, but he really wasn't up for one of these crazy self-reprimanding dream sequence things. Huh. Maybe he's stuck in Unit-01 again? That would explain...

"IKARI!"

"Wa-wa-waugh!" Shinji choked out, as he was forced into the land of the living by the gentle caresses of...who the heck was shaking him anyway?! That might be something to ask, oh great detective. Wondering where that little mental put down came from, Shinji hesitantly opened an eye and asked, "Um, c-could you stop shaking me, please? I'm pretty sure I'm, uh, fresh..."

Yaowza.

"What." Clipped the still impatient voice of an older, curvier Asuka Langley Soryu, who looked as though she had been poured into a policewoman's uniform. He would almost think Halloween had snuck up on him, but for the whole "older" matter, "Are you staring at, third?"

"Third?" Shinji asked without thinking; his mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton balls, and his whole body had that strange, detached feeling the Third Child endured whenever he had to pilot Unit-01. There were times when the Evangelion seemed to know what to do better than him, some sort of strange...instinct that had saved his life in the struggle against the Angels more than once, and it felt just like this-like a second person was politely asking if it could drive for a while. A new set of instincts, full of secret knowledge, hints of long nights, old coffee, sweat, gunpowder, and dried blood.

"Yep!" Fortunately Asuka, as always, was prepared to strike him out of any dangerously deep thoughts in the name of the great and glorious goal: paying attention to her. "Captain Katsuragi posted the new rankings an hour ago! I guess your little fainting spell made the old bat realize her pwecious invincible Shinji was as human as the rest of us. And guess who made sec-ond?"

"Hikari Horaki." Shinji somehow summoned up a deadpan despite the fact that his head was doing things that made his knife fight with the Third Angel seem like a skinned knee. "Was that really Professor Fuyutsuki in there?"

"What did you hear?!" Suddenly, he had a face full of Langley, which was as terrifying as ever, "I just knew that little no-talent by the book kiss up was gunning for my spot! Thinks she's something because she reorganized the robbery division. -well, I was going to gloat a little more, but I can't let my partner mope around like this when my position is in jeopardy! Now, buck up! I know you knew the guy from college, and he was a friend of your dad's, but...well, actually that's why..."

"You're kidding." At least, Shinji couldn't help but think, she had the decency to look sheepish. "Do you seriously think-"

"Who else can?"

"Who else can what?" A third voice chimed in. Shinji hesitantly looked to his left, and wished it surprised him more to see a taller, somehow skinnier Kensuke Aida leaning against the door, a press pass on his lapel and a smug smile on his face. Pointing a tape recorder towards the pair, the reporter adjusted his spectacles cheekily. "Is that confirmation on a connection between this case and the original Angel murders?"

"Aida." Asuka snapped, smoothly standing up so as to subtly remind Kensuke who could clobber who if it came down to it, "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Teaching." Kensuke replied with a shrug and a little smile; and as if on cue, a pale young woman with short blue hair stepped out from behind Kensuke, turning a dispassionate eye over the crowded little office before raising a miniature camera up to her eyes.

Click.

"...Ayanami?" A wide eyed Shinji murmured under his breath.

Click.

"What the hell?!" Asuka bellowed before moving forward in order to physically shove the pair of reporters from the room; it was to Aida's credit, as a man and a reporter, that he was able to hold on for as long as he did against the Rhineland fury, "You bring a camera in here? Ten seconds after we get off of a crime scene? Do you /want/ your press pass revoked, or do you just like me pummeling you in the neck?! I swear to God, Aida!"

"Can I quote you on that?" Kensuke asked in a unmistakably sly tone, smirking and winking at the indomitable Officer Langley in a fashion that caused the woman to blush, briefly, before finally kicking the door shut with a foomph!

Leaning against the door, Asuka let an exhausted breath out, wiping her brow and mentally cursing the fourth estate. "Sorry about that, Shinji. I didn't think that even Aida would sink to busting in on a crime...scene..." Asuka blinked at the conspicuously empty office. "Shinji? Shiiiinjiface? Shinjadoodle?"

* * *

A trick Shinji Ikari had learned over his time as an Evangelion pilot, when it came to enduring high weirdness without going completely out of his mind, was to try and take a step back from a situation. View it as though he weren't directly involved, observe the good and the bad as though he were deciding if the plot to a television program was good enough to put actual effort into watching or not. For a moment he wondered, idly, if this was how Father did the things he had to do with his trademark frosty professionalism.

And that was a second trick Shinji had learned; when his mind didn't want to confront a situation, he'd let it wander to something even worse. Okay, so, Shinji Ikari, professional milksop and occasional unlikely savior of the planet Earth, had woken up to find himself...Shinji looked in the bathroom mirror again, wincing at how much he resembled Father. Older, more lines under his eyes, the same sunken cheekbones, but, thankfully, facial hair seemed to stop at a rough five o'clock shadow...all and all, it looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Idly, Shinji wondered if all of his dreams were so unflattering. It'd fit. He had never really had a dream this vivid before, as he looked into the strange, green eyes, Shinji had always thought his occasional bouts of insomnia, a smile that he'd never seen on Ayanami's face, even when she smiled for him, kept him from really dreaming, which may or may not have been the whole point, orange, a terrible, plastic orange and it was all fake, false, a lie, a.

* * *

"You." The familiar voice, softer than usual but still possessing all of the best qualities of a brick to the face, bludgeoned him back into awareness. Why was his hand bloody? "Are the stupidest, craziest, drama queeniest..."

"Queeniest?" Shinji couldn't help but ask, and was rewarded with a sharp jolt of pain as the woman tugged a shard of glass out of his knuckle a little faster than she really needed to.

"And back to the jokes." Asuka sighed a little, shaking a few drops of some chemical that bubbled and burned when exposed to raw flesh and, Shinji was certain, was probably supposed to be good for him. "You know, I could have had Ryoji Kaji as a partner. Now _there_ is a policeman..."

"And Captain Katsuragi's boyfriend..." Shinji found himself muttering, tapping his chin with his unblemished hand and looking mildly grouchy. Why was he grouchy? This was normal; this was much preferable to being pile driven into the ground by the woman. "Don't get too worried, we can just order out for dinner."

And then everything changed; he felt pressure just light enough to notice but heavy enough to threaten to throw him straight out of his chair, a terrible, smothering warmth spreading across his shoulders and whispering into his ear. "That an in-vi-tation, Mister Sleuth?" Oh God she was getting closer and closer and she smelled really nice...

"Ow!" Shinji stumbled backwards, somehow avoiding a cackling Asuka as he rubbed his sore nose. "T-that's playing dirty, you!"

"Oh man, it's just..hee!...so nice knowing I can still do that to you." She ruffled Shinji's hair in a light way that reminded the Third of Misato, even as a squirming feeling entered his gut. "If I didn't have duty tonight, I might just take you up on that..."

"We'll make a rain check." When the hell did he get confident enough to-well, it's Asuka, eating with Asuka's /normal/, even if he's in some crazy dream world where she doesn't think so. "I've got to talk to the old man and..." Shinji was moving, horrified at what was next coming out of his mouth. "...I've got a date tonight anyway."

* * *

The door closed with a slam and an exhausted Shinji Ikari leaned against the foot-thick slab of metal, sliding down into a crouching position and focusing on just breathing. It was kind of a cold way to get himself in the right mindset...but, well, it wasn't like she was above doing the exact same thing to him, right? And this was important. This was necessary. This was the best chance he had at cracking the case before more people died. He needed to be at his best, right? Right.

"You would get more accomplished in a day," The second man in the room said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper, "If you did not need to agonize over anything resembling a decision you might have made every ten minutes."

Immediately, Shinji's senses went into overdrive; the shine reflecting off of the clear plastic wall that indicated that the usual consequences of the second man trying to touch that wall, a few thousand volts running through his body, had been turned down so as to allow the pair their customary chess game. Shinji had tried speaking with the prisoner once, without the accompanying game, only to spend the better part of three hours being aggressively ignored. It was the one scrap of power the old man had so, of course, he needed to cling to it with all the ferocity of a tiger who was old enough to start getting weak, but not quite old enough to be able to admit it yet. "...father."

The newspaper rustled, slightly. "Boy."

Resisting the urge to sigh, Shinji tapped down the stairs, idly looked for anything resembling a tripwire, and sat down. Faint black and white lights flickered in front of him; father had already made the first move, a silent anticipation of Shinji's visit. Wordlessly, the younger Ikari attached the neural headset to his hair, wincing a little at the pinching sensation as his mind was connected to the holographic chess set in front of him. A black pawn moved forward two spaces and, finally, the man folded his newspaper up, carefully marking his place with a delicately folded page, and laid it beside him.

Gendo Ikari had managed to keep much of his razor sharp demeanor, despite having been trapped in this special jail cell for the past six months. His beard was, perhaps, a little thicker, his eyes a little darker, his cheekbones a little more sunken than usual, but these subtle alterations only enhanced the elder Ikari's ominous appearance, making his similarity to a starved, feral dog all the more obvious. Shinji couldn't help it; it was bad enough seeing those features on his own face, seeing them on someone who really knew how to use them to the fullest effect made the boy swallow. "They treating you well?"

"Within expectation." The newspaper rustled again, as the white knight moved. "They are too afraid of giving me an advantage or, worse, to enable the true nature of the Angel Murders to spread beyond the handful of people who guard the truth."

"And the food?" The black rook inched across the board, as Shinji matched where he thought his father's gaze would be, barring that newspaper in the way. Stupid newspaper.

"They continue to insist on attempting to provide food I 'enjoy.'." The elder Ikari sighed, taking a moment to rub the bridge of his nose, as if reliving some terrible frustration. "Your doing, I presume?"

Shinji moved another pawn, not bothering to hide his smile

"I'm thirty, sir." Shinji found himself saying, in spite of all probability and reason, "Don't you think it's about time you came up with a more accurate condescending nickname?"

"I still have the liberty to make up my own mind." The older man looked a little bored by everything, steeping his fingers in front of his face and resting his chin on his hands, so as to obscure any lower facial movements. "And I choose not to indulge in the vulgarity that would come from the accuracy you desire. Are you going to ask me anything of merit, or shall I resume my mid-day nap?"

"How are you getting messages out of the prison?" Shinji offered in a voice stronger than he had ever been able to use in the actual presence of his father, "And what does Professor Fuyutsuki's death have to do with your plan to escape and resume your work?"

"Again, you reveal the feebleness of your perception." Gendo murmured, idly taking one of Shinji's rooks with a bishop. "Escape is irrelevant. My role in the scenario has been completed. All that remains is to wait."

"And what," Shinji bit his bottom lip, concentrating on the game for a moment and, finally, moving another pawn. "Exactly are we waiting for?"

The old man chose this moment to lower the paper, meeting Shinji's gaze with his own dispassionate one, as the sickly remains of a smile irked up the corners of his mouth. "The end of the world, of course."

Shinji stared, for a moment, gripping his fingers together a little harder, so Father couldn't see them shake. "I thought that's why you started killing to begin with, Father." Shinji was amazed that he was able to keep his voice from cracking, "Mother's death set off a chain of events described in the new dead sea scrolls you and Professor Fuyutsuki were working on translating. You believed that avenging her death was the only way to prevent it."

Now, it was Gendo's turn to hold back emotion; Shinji had learned to read the old man's face over the years, the tightening of the skin, the flicker of fire in those cold, dead eyes, the faint raising of the upper lip. It warmed Shinji's heart, if he was honest with himself. "You know, Shinji." Oh shit. Father didn't use his name unless he had something terrible up his sleeve. "While you were an...adequate investigator, and deduced my actions as I had anticipated, but I did not think you strong enough to actually stop me." Gendo's face flashed with...with something Shinji couldn't quite identify, "I was proud, to be honest. Perhaps I shall be wrong again about your capabilities." And now, the taught, withered look transformed into something more, well, more natural on Gendo's face, a sneering, superior smirk. "Or perhaps..."

Emotion welled against Shinji's chest, he couldn't determine which one so he just sort of mashed them all together into a terrible screaming casserole of the soul. "If this all was a part of your plan, Father, I'd be dead by now." Shinji said with the certainty of the desperate, "You hate loose ends."

"An end is not loose until it serves its purpose." Gendo sighed with the air of an old argument revisited, propping his paper back up. "You are the Third."

The dam broke. "Never!" Shinji shouted, leaping to his feet and pounding a fist against the transparent glasssteel. ...ow, Shinji thought, that was a bad idea.

"You will." Gendo spoke as if he were a clergyman discussing the reality of God, "You have no choice, sharing my greatest weakness. The death of the Second will force your hand, as the First forces the Second's."

"You're blackmailing the copycat." Shinji snarled, holding his face away from the window by virtue of both of his hands pressing violently against it. "I saw the crime scene. She wasn't enjoying it, not in the way you did. Who is the First Child! How are you communicating?! Answer me!"

"Believe what you want." Gendo sniffed, sounding disappointed. "Checkmate. Enjoy your date."

"I'll find proof, old man. This time, you're going to fry like a two yen shrimp..."

"Innocent until proven guilty, boy." Gendo adjusted his paper again, sighing faintly. "But I have come to enjoy these little chats of ours. You managed to remain civil for most of the game, this time. Perhaps some day, before old age claims me, we will be able to converse as adults."

* * *

With a sigh, Shinji slapped the door, rubbing the bridge of his nose and trying to get a hold of himself. Even in this strange body and with this new, competent mind, it seemed like some aspects of his existence was never going to change. Bile weld up in his throat as the pointlessness of it all grabbed him by the throat and squeezed with enough force to trap him against the wall, head hung, trying to find some motivation to do anything besides throw himself out of a window.

Shinji's grim thoughts were abruptly cut off by the unique sensation of a mass of bone and muscle violating his personal space by the traditional path of crashing into his face; the force of said action caused Shinji's jaw to crack, his neck to snap to the left and his feet to kick forward in a sensation laymen would call 'being knocked the hell out from under him', resulting in his kicking selfsame feed lamely in the air as Shinji flew, for a second, as freefall grabbed his guts and twisted maliciously, finishing him off with a bone crunching slam onto the floor. Eyes watering, Shinji was at once terrified and relieved to meet the enraged face of Toji Suzuhara, a little more unshaven but otherwise enduring, giving Shinji the exact same look he gave the first time the two of them met, just outside of school.

"Suzuhara!" Another familiar voice snapped out. To the outsider, Hikari Horaki's voice sounded strong, commanding, and confident, the mightiest weapon of a formidable woman. It bothered Shinji a little that he had, seemingly by accident, come to know the class rep well enough to tell that she was actually terrified and desperately pleading with Toji. "Sister or no, don't you dare think I won't report you for this!"

"Well, if I'm already in trouble..." Toji's voice had lowered into a cruel growl, as he struggled with the woman's grip on his arms, "...I might as well finish th'job!"

"Could you go for the gut?" Shinji found himself asking, politely, as if he wanted directions to the bathroom. "I have a date tonight, and I think it would be sort of rude if I came in with a black eye. Don't want her thinking I'm the sort of guy who does that for easy sympathy points."

The sheer improbability of the statement-or, some memory that was and was not his bubbled in his brain, because Suzuhara indulged in that exact practice in order to have an excuse to walk with Horaki to the infirmary-seemed to shake his co-workers out of their respective rages. Shinji took advantage of this lapse in hostilities to cautiously stand back up, brushing himself off, and promptly be lifted by the collar of his shirt and slammed back against the wall, held firm by a coldly furious Toji.

"You said...you said you caught him." Toji snarled and, for the first time a sliver of fear stabbed into Shinji's armor of resignation, "...that the Angel Killings were over. You said!"

"Check the tapes." The chill in Shinji's voice startled him; Hikari taking a step back and covering her mouth with her hands terrified him, "The prisoner has not left his cell, there were no signs of tampering. It was a copycat."

"For a case we don't admit happened?!" Toji snapped, his face growing redder and redder, as if determined to contrast Shinji's rapidly chilling demeanor. "I'm a cop too, Ikari, don't you ferget! First place I checked wuz the records-"

"Thank you." Shinji replied dully, almost seeming to grow sleepy in response to the other man's bonfire of hate, "That saves me the time needed to rule out suspects not directly connected to the department."

"You knew?!" Hikari, of all people, finally said, eyes wide and mouth open.

"I suspected...rather, shared your suspicions, Detective." Shinji nodded his head towards Toji in salute, "But I could not be sure, and therefore had to trust in others while I followed a lead that I was uniquely qualified to investigate."

Toji leaned in, then, close enough to touch Shinji's nose with his own. "So if you knew where I'd be, and where you'd be...where the hell was the guy keeping this son of a bitch from finishing th'job your ol'man started on my sister?!"

Shinji's eyes widened and, for a moment, he was honestly unsure if he was going to tell Toji, or try to bite his nose clean off. "The prisoner," Shinji paused for emphasis, "Is not aware that Asuka is on duty tonight."

"...I don't like bein'manipulated, Ikari." Despite Toji's gruff tone, however, Hikari had let out a breath, and Shinji knew that he had endured the worst of the conversation.

So, obviously, he had to try and make it worse. "I'd suggest making the process a little more difficult in the future, then, Suzuhara." I'm insane, Shinji desperately thought, In this crazy future I've obviously gone completely insane.

"...thank you." Toji dropped Shinji, who landed with a thump against the floor, turning around with a snap and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Why? Shinji thought, shocked; Asuka liked Mari, the his-but-not-his memories insisted, when protecting a cub, employ a lioness. "Thank me when the criminal is caught."

* * *

Socializing. How did Shinji ever convince himself that this was even the clever illusion of a good idea? A normal day capped off by willingly spending time with an attractive woman in a room that smells like garlic and butter; even the air had an oily quality that could come from being around too much pasta, where the subtle flavors become overwhelming through sheer numerical advantage. Is she sweating? Is she ready to order? Did she ask me something while I was spacing out and is still waiting for an answer?! Oh God, wha-

"It's hot."

"Yes."

Good to see I'm still a winning conversationalist, Shinji thought wryly, loosening his tie and marveling at how the albino woman across the table from him could take everything with the same softly stoic attitude. It was impressive, really, the kind of self control that took, and some traitorous part of Shinji's mind wondered if her monotone would endure under any sort of pressure...

"Ikari."

"Y-yes?" Oh God she can read minds.

"Thank you."

...this was shaping up to be a memorable evening. "Ah, you're, um, w-welcome?" Smooth, Shinji.

Red eyes met with his blue, and Shinji could swear he saw a flicker of laughter in them, as Ayanami pointed delicately at the vegetarian of the menu. "You remembered."

Oh. "Oh!" The great detective. Shinji rubbed the back of his head, lamenting the loss of that strange, guiding confidence he had felt earlier. "Well, um, endemic memory and all. Seems great until you realize that when a song gets stuck in your head...it never gets back out."

A giggle. Crazy dream or not, Shinji knew full well that no Rei Ayanami anywhere giggled, and this aberration against natural law put him immediately on the defensive, even as he dispassionately broke a breadstick in half. "When you said you were a student, I didn't know you meant journalism."

"Mister Aida is a dedicated teacher." Rei noted coolly, "It is more educational than the library, as well."

I'll bet, Shinji couldn't help but think; despite being unsure about what part of Rei's sentence he disapproved of so darn much. Wait - his mind's eye flashed with visions of himself and Ayanami; meeting over a library desk, a scant few weeks after he had arrested his own father for being the infamous serial killer who had ritualistically slaughtered some of the city's most influential politicians, scientists, businesspeople, and a young girl named Mari for some damn reason. An awkward young man, he was surprised at how easy a friendship had developed, talking about the pressures of work, the rumors of corruption still being rooted in the Neo Tokyo educational system, sharing recipes, getting snapped at for observing that Ayanami really looked a lot like his...

Oh God. Rei's small, unassuming smile reflected in the ever widening eyes of Shinji Ikari. "The food has been enjoyable." She said, softly, "But perhaps there is somewhere else you need to be?"

* * *

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhh!" Asuka Langley Soryu stretched awkwardly, letting out a lioness's yawn and scratching her...the small of her back with slow, deliberate motions. Where is that itch...? "-oooh yeah, that's the stuff." Asuka sighed happily, continuing to claw at the troublesome patch of skin until, finally, the itch was banished. The inevitable fate of all of her enemies, hao hao hao! Normally, the great Asuka Langley was above this sort of thing...well, at least in public, but...

"Well, you don't mind if I'm myself, do you?" Askua murmured to the girl she was sharing a room with, gently brushing a lock of hair out of Mari Suzuhara's face. Askua had never considered herself the maternal sort, but considering the unfortunate genetic burden the younger Suzuhara had to bare, the kid was, well...adorable! And an excellent listener, being unconscious and all. Yep, had nothing at all to do with residual guilt about the kid being stuck in a hospital bed, practically comatose thanks to the attentions of a psychotic old man who thought her being alive doomed the world.

Sitting down with a sigh, Asuka rubbed her temples, trying to force the oncoming migraine out before it really took root. "You'd be the only one." She let slip because near-solitude meant that Asuka could indulge in a break or two from the constant stream of perky, can-do attitude that everyone else she knew thought came naturally to her. Well, almost everyone, but she wasn't thinking about him right now, or how badly she wanted to break a few of his teeth. Thud.

Wait, Asuka thought, I didn't do anything that gave off a meaty 'thud'. Frowning, the woman listened again...and the strained sound repeated itself. "The hell was that?", Asuka muttered to herself as she quickly got to her feet, weapon drawn, shoulders tensed, eyes narrowed in concentration, there was only one thing holding the avenging angel of Neo Tokyo-s third precinct back; could she leave Mari alone?

But there wasn't a real choice in the matter; Asuka Langley was the best cop on the Neo Tokyo police force, to flinch in the face of danger was bad enough, but hesitation in the performance of her duties? Unacceptable. Impossible. She'd...stop being Asuka. Clicking her gun's safety off and slipping out of her shoes, Asuka carefully padded to the door and glared up and down the hallway, senses fully alert for any aberration. Asuka could smell it first, her nose prickling at the all too familiar smell, like a pile of wet, moldy pennies. In spite of her natural bravery, years of training, and the overwhelming sense of pride that refused to allow her to call for backup or something similarly sensible, Asuka found herself frozen, trapped against the wall by the force of a primal wisdom that could not let her walk into the mouth of a dragon, metaphorical or otherwise. Asuka treated these instinctual revelations the same way she treated any advice she'd been given by an authority figure in her life, violently ignoring it in the loudest way she could manage, stomping down the floor and towards the source of the stench, a chipped old janitor's closet. Freshly flush with victory, Asuka deliberately wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, and imperiously tugged.

* * *

"Come on..." Shinji muttered as he pounded the numbers of his cell phone with increasing desperation, "Come on...please..."

"Ha-llo!" Asuka's voice rung out chipperly, and Shinji started right away, "Asuka, I was wrong, I thought that...nevermind what I thought, just stay in Mari's room! Don't look at anything anyone's given you until I get there, your life is in-" "-too bad for you that the great Asuka Langely Soryu has something better to do than talk to you right now! Which, let's face it, could be anything. Especially if you're a certain JERK named Shinji JERKari who can't keep his JERK eyes off of every blue haired strumpet he sees walking down the street. If you are not that full of jerk, please leave a message after the beep!"

No no NO! Damn it, damn it, damn it, what did a guy have to do to get a taxi in this town?!

* * *

Click. Click click. Click click click click click. "Locked. Damn it!" Asuka snapped; both because of the frustration and because a suspicious closet locked from the inside was just never a good sign. Feeling the white hot heat of frustration bringing her blood to a simmering boil, Asuka propped her right foot up against the door, wrapped both hands around the doorknob and let out a silent war cry, tugging at the portal with all of her considerable strength and inestimable fury. The door strained, shook, shuddered, and finally let out a high pitched screech, the death howl of a rusted old lock that finally burst open, sending the broken down old door flying open, and Asuka flying back into the wall with a terrible thumpittythwack! Leaned against the wall in a rough sitting position, it took the woman a moment to shake the haze from her senses, and she idly wondered if she managed to give herself a concussion as, finally, the world came back into focus...

...and, in consistency to the natural human reaction to sights such as what was laid out before Asuka Langley, her thoughts turned, briefly, to the bizarre. Any other time, Asuka's shell shocked brain insisted on thinking, I'd have kicked Aida's teeth in for getting as good of a look as he was at the moment.

* * *

Shinji vaulted up the stairs two and three steps at a time, cursing the elevator for deciding to be out of order yet again. One, two, three, how could he have been so blind?! Father had practically gift wrapped the answer for him, and all Shinji could have been bothered to deduce is that, surprise, his old man was still a jerk after all this time. He even called it; Shinji shared his father's fatal flaw, the petty vindictiveness most often seen in small, starved dogs trying to hold on to a bone, and was so tied up in being angry that he wasn't able to see Father spelling it all out, right in front of him. And now it was all happening again...

"Damn it!" Shinji shouted as he tripped over himself, slamming into the staircase face-first with a jaw rattling thud! He didn't have any time to lose...

* * *

"Gott in Himmel." Asuka's professionalism warred with the urge to close the poor man's eyes, one of those simple decencies that made being human something tolerable enough for people to get out of bed every morning. No one, not even a reporter, deserved to die like that, Asuka decided, and like a chill down her spine rationality suddenly liberated her mind from her pride; she hit her silent alarm, alerting headquarters that something was going down at the hospital. Her next priority, she knew, was to get back to that room and make sure little Mari Suzuhara was allright or introduce a lot more than the daily recommended dosage of iron into the chest and throat area of whoever was trying to make the kid less than allright, and with the terrible determination of a cornered lioness, Asuka stood up, sighed at Kensuke's body, and noticed something she hadn't before. Keen senses trained to pick up minute details betrayed her, and Asuka's eyes were drawn like magnets to the small, blood stained manila folder nestled under Kensuke's arms, sucked into the tide of the neatly typed words on its front.

Soryu, Kyoko Zeppelin.

Classified.

* * *

"Freeze!" Shinji shouted, shoving his way into the hospital room, gun pointed forward as his eager eyes desperately searched for some sign of change, some subtle hint that would confirm his worst fears. Mari was breathing, seemingly undisturbed, no sharp, coppery smell, the heart monitor was beeping steadily, the stuffed animals were lined up in an orderly fashion...

...blam! Jermaine the Giraffe's adorable plush head exploded into a morbid rain of stuffing, bead eyes, and smoking, blackened felt.

"That's your only warning." Shinji was surprised that his voice was capable of barking anything, "Get up." But this whole surreal experience had not come close to preparing him to end up looking into the calm, impassive gaze of an unrepentant murderer. "Ayanami?"

Those frozen lips of hers, lightly specked like the rest of her face with a tiny slash of dried blood, spread slightly, the Rei Ayanami equivalent of a savage, mocking grin. The real horror, to Shinji, was in the subtly of it all...this wasn't fake, like at the dinner. This was Rei actually emoting, taking a dark satisfaction in her work. "To an extent."

Shinji's hands shook; only the faint gleam of the scarlet tinged straight razor in Ayanami's hand kept him from dropping the gun from sheer shock. Suspicion was one thing, but what hope did he have against living, breathing facts standing right in front of him? "Who's blood is that?"

"Aida." Almost a year of knowing Rei had trained Shinji's senses to pick up the tiny fluxuations in her normally icy face that indicated pleasure.

"...why?" Shinji couldn't help but ask.

"The human body cannot endure losing a certain amount of blood, which tends to expel rapidly from the veins once the slight difficulty of the skin is resolv..."

"You know what I mean!" There he was, barking again, Shinji thought to himself, somehow intimate and detached from the same moment.

"I no longer had a use for him." Ayanami's face was damningly consistent, as though discussing the finer points of gardening with a fellow hobbyist. "But I did have a use for his body."

Shinji's eyes widened; if he didn't know better, he could've sworn that Ayanami was referencing the brief, lewd thoughts about the depth of her student-teacher relationship with Kensuke that flashed through his mind at the end of dinner. Horror ripped at his spine, as other possibilities sizzled through his brain...

Almost kindly, Rei interrupted. "The second needed to see."

Ayanami's words violently stoked the dim coals that laid in Shinji's gut; after all of this unnatural intelligence and the layers of mystery, something as familiar as the sudden, monstrous, nearly uncontrollable urge to beat someone to death with their own arm was almost a welcome source of stability to Shinji. The stinging bile of normalcy surged up in his throat and he couldn't keep these strange, larger lips of his from curling back, or his tongue from briefly running over his canines. "Who is-"

There are many kinds of clicks in the world, some with more power than others. Some clicks, like the handle of a door, can bring excitement, warning, or embarrassed races to the bathroom to wash one's hands. Others, like the noise made by the hammer of a gun cocking itself back, instead had the power to instantly dominate a conversation, no matter how unique the circumstances.

"As if..." The worst part, Shinji could not help but think, was how quiet she was. He could handle screaming, cursing, tantrums, hurled furniture, he could even handle breaks, near sobs, the faint hint of tears; but that whisper, old, ruined leather cracking as though the fire of her soul had gone out for the evening, come back to find her husband in bed with the tramp next door, and found out that, somehow, he had gotten custody of the kids? What chance did he have against that? "...you didn't know." The ghost of Asuka's voice continued, "Neither of you move. I haven't decided who I'm going to shoot yet."

"Asuka..." Shinji breathed, hating the minute look of surprise on Ayanami's face. Like she was expecting the red haired policewoman to be a little more dead than she was at the present moment.

"Did you know, Ikari?"

"Know?"

"Cut the crap, Ikari. Did. You. Know."

"Yes, Ikari." Rei's sense of timing was as terrible as ever. "Tell her."

Shinji breathed for a second. Did he know what? What were they talking about? And inside, something in him squirmed, some knowledge so terrible that he could not bring himself to realize consciously burst out of his mouth. "I suspected." Shinji said, closed his eyes, waited for oblivion...and, after a second, continued. "But I didn't have any proof...or even any evidence. I honestly don't know the specifics. Just...my dad doesn't believe in coincidences, and your mom and my mom being colleagues was too much of one to ignore." Shinji had to take another breath, waiting for the heat, the smoke, the pain.

"And?" That phantom of his friend pressed on.

Shinji resisted the urge to scowl at the faint look of satisfaction on Ayanami's face. "I...I know, I keep things from you sometimes. A lot of the time. And I really am trying to get better with that, but...it's just how my mind works. I suspect lots of things, terrible things, all the time, and the last thing I want to do is hurt someone because of..."

"I said cut the crap." Asuka should've yelled by now, oh why wasn't she yelling...and a terrible possibility opened itself up to Shinji's mind. It wasn't just a choice between shooting himself or shooting Rei, was it? "You've never been above saying something just to observe someone's reaction. Last warning."

"Fine." Shinji took a second to breathe. "That's true sometimes. I've never done it to you, though. If I had anything but a vague suspicion in the back of my head, a shred of solid evidence, the first thing I would've done is tell you, but without that...how could I say something like that based on a crazy hunch? How long have we worked together, Asuka? You know me better than...just about anyone, these days. Do you really think I'd use what I know to hurt you?"

Silence filled the room for tense few seconds until, again, Asuka's scarred croak of a voice managed to speak. "I thought I knew a lot of things, Shinji. I don't anymore. I'm sorry." Click.

"No!" Shinji shouted, lunging at the empty air. Holding his heart, as if he was unsure why it had any right to still be beating, Shinji sat still for a long moment before screwing up the courage to look around. Above, a familiarly unfamiliar ceiling, to the left, the still...but steady breathing of Toji, lacking stubble, and Kensuke, lacking the loss of most of the blood in his body. Fourteen again. And to his right?

"Ow!" Shinji squawked, wide eyed with panic.

"It's just a needle, Third Child." Tsked the winner of 'Best Bedside Manner In A Clandestine Government Organization' a horrible three years running, Ritsuko Akagi. "The Commander's on his way, but you seem to be fi...healthy."

Briefly, Shinji wished he was back at the Mexican standoff from hell. "I...has something happened, Doctor Akagi?"

"Well, Shinji..." Ritsuko's face thawed, slightly, revealing the stress and tension of a woman who hadn't slept in days, "That's what we were hoping you'd be able to tell us."


	3. Chapter 3

Notes: Here I am again. Wow, that last chapter sure felt longer than it ended up being. Maybe I should expand it a little. Anyway, finally, the actual, factual plot of the story! Thanks to y'all who've waded through the slop up until this. Standard disclaimer applies; I'm not making any money off of this, it's just for fun, not ment to infringe on any copywright, and so on. This one is also a little short, on account of it being largely exposition, but I hope the material's got quality to make up for its quantity.

* * *

"I was asleep for a whole day?!" Shinji Ikari was normally not the sort to use exclamation points outside of deadly combat with extraterrestrial monsters bent on destroying the human race, but this seemed to be a special occasion.

"Pay attention to the tests, Shinji." Ritsuko chided gently, making a few calculations to counter the brief surge of excitement the news caused in the Third Child's biospects. "But, well, yes."

Shinji resisted the urge to throw the diodes, scanning devices, biomonitors, and other uncomfortable, beeping things Dr. Akagi was using to observe his body's reaction to walking in place at the good doctor like terrible, rubbery shuriken that seemed perfectly harmless until you realize that to get them off you're going to have to sacrifice your one hard-earned chest hair in the name of science. She was just doing her job, he said to himself, and having a fit won't solve anything. Well, it would wipe the smug, self-satisfied attitude off of her face, a rebellious voice whispered in the darker corners of his mind, maybe make her stop seeing you as an overgrown lab rat...

"The other children were brought in the same time as you." Ritsuko continued, mildly surprised that Shinji had managed to keep his stride on the machines. While normally fairly obedient and quiet to the point of passivity, the Third had a bad habit of letting his emotions get away from him. This could be anticipated and accounted for, usually, but with Shinji, one could not be sure if he was going to cave to the slightest bit of pressure, crawling back into his emotional shell, or, for lack of a more precise term, snap, showing ferocity, bravery, and competence that, if she hadn't seen it for herself, Ritsuko would swear just wasn't in the Third Child's character. With the First, you could predict submission, with the Second, you could predict rebellion, but the Third reacted erratically enough that Ritsuko found herself rarely knowing what, exactly, to say to him. "Which is when the last of the NERV personnel to be affected went to sleep."

Shinji had, in his own way, grown used to the constant dull ache of terror that came with his duties to NERV. It was only when contrasted with this new, terrible pit ripping open in his gut did Shinji realize how much he missed being a nihilist who honestly didn't care about anything other than avoiding pain. "...I thought I was just quarantined."

"Well, that's the tricky bit." Akagi admitted, tsking at a few charts and graphs, "While there's an obvious connection, and both groups of subjects are suffering identical symptoms, the conditions seemed to generate independently, but without spreading like a natural contagion would. We're just lucky that an Angel didn't attack while all the pilots were compromised."

Despite himself, Shinji couldn't help but to notice the hint of trepidation in Dr. Akagi's voice; another new emotion threatened to overtake Shinji as a bubble of sickly laughter built up in his gut at the inevitability of it all, and with some effort Shinji attempted to head the sensation off at the mental pass. "I'll bet Father's thrilled to be relying on just me again..." Sarcasm was a sort of antacid for the soul.

"Why wouldn't he be?" A third voice asked in its familiarly silky, sleepy tone as Ryoji Kaji glided into the room, throwing a wink at the swiftly bristling Ritsuko before continuing. "A significant role in every sortie since the Angel attacks began, two successful one on one sorties, the only successful sortie against a non-Angelic target, all with a fraction of the training the other pilots have been given. In any organization but NERV, kid, you'd be hailed as some kind of child prodigy storming through the frontier of the new military-industrial paradigm and have a book deal or two by now."

"M-mister Kaji?" Shinji blinked, surprised that the older man was awake and managed to say so much in such a slothful tone of voice. Maybe he had some kind of secret speech efficiency training, Shinji reasoned, as the rest of Kaji's words just sort of flowed past the Third Child's head; Shinji figured the praise was more intended to cause Dr. Akagi to turn that particular shade of purple than to actually imply that he had achieved something of worth with his life. "I'm, um, glad you're all right, sir..."

"Kaji..." Ritsuko ground out, her already frayed nerves being stopped on in this particularly vicious fashion causing an uncharacteristic sharpness to her temper. Is this what it's like being Misato?, Ritsuko asked herself, How does she keep it up all day? "...what the hell are you doing here?! This is a medical room-don't you have something classified to take pictures of?"

"Well, right now, I'm passive aggressively criticizing NERV's policy of keeping its pilots from ever learning how appreciated they really are, and wondering if the Commander believes that positive self esteem gets in the way of the synchronization process." Kaji replied, unruffled, though Shinji noticed some steel beneath the man's usual stream of conversational silk. "Officially, though, I'm inspecting the Third Child's physical to ensure the UN that we have some protection against an Angel attack, since we know you'd never tell us if all of your pilots were compromised, unofficially I'm making sure NERV hasn't fabricated this entire incident in order to get a little more blood from the stone, and personally, I've been watching that fabulous zipper of yours inch its way across your chest in a fashion that makes me wonder why I've never tried to piss you off this badly before." Kaji took a second to send the sort of wink men send other men when the female species is involved, "...so, take your pick, really."

Shinji blinked at the attention, and suddenly, terribly, it clicked. "Is Misato all right?" He had no idea why Kaji looked proud all of a sudden, though he secretly figured it had something to do with Dr. Akagi's skirt.

"Right in one." The Inspector grinned, but quickly turned solemn, "She's been asleep for a few hours. We think she was one of the first infected but, well." Kaji looked up at the ceiling wistfully. "You know how Katsuragi is. Somehow, the woman held out until the kids were confirmed as being safely at the base." Kaji took a sip of his coffee, winced, and shook his head. "Definitely not the caffeine..."

"That's enough, Inspector." Apparently something about the exchange allowed Ritsuko to recover her cool; ice was practically hanging off of the doctor as she grabbed Kaji by the arm and gently escorted him to the door. As the two left him alone, something in Shinji's soul buckled and brayed, seizing the moment of weakness in Shinji's will like a starving man grabs at a scrap of food. His hand, Shinji thought in that strange, detached way that sometimes overtook him, was squeezing in and out, in and out, as though it were waiting to be used. He should really do something with it.

"Yeah." Shinji rasped to himself, as that shaking hand pulled itself around the forest of wires holding the equipment to his chest, "It." he steadied his shaking, quivering fist with his other hand, and something in his secret heart howled in bestial triumph as Shinji tugged as hard as he could, wincing at what felt like a solid layer of skin ripping off of his chest. "Is!" Suddenly glad that his chest hair was a little reluctant to develop, the Third Child wiped his eyes, grabbed his shirt, and paused to show his cell phone to the visible security camera in the room, making sure to show very clearly that he was putting the damned thing in his pocket and proceeding to walk out the door.

* * *

"Stop looking at me like that." Shinji murmured to himself, refusing to look through the window and meet the imagined glares of the other two Evangelions. "I needed a breather. I was getting overwhelmed." Shinji continued to protest, the words being too weak to call a proper argument, "That's not running away, that's taking a minute off so I don't go completely insane. They know how to contact me if there's an emergency...hell, I haven't even left headquarters!" Shinji stopped himself, closing his eyes and taking a slow, deep breath. He was fine, Shinji told himself, he was being totally normal, and had done nothing wrong. Unit-00 and Unit-02 were not silently accusing him of abandoning their pilots, it was just a figment of his-

"Stop judging me!" Shinji gave into the scream that always hung at the back of his throat, hurling a lamp against the clear window that looked down on the hangar, barely registering the shattering noise as he leapt forward, spitting hate at those damned machines! "I get it, okay?! I watched the same cartoons as everyone else, and I'm the God damn opposite of Koji Kabuto! I'm not strong, or smart, or even lucky, let alone brave or noble, I can't live up to anyone's expectations no matter how low they set them..." Shinji's fist bounced off of the window, made of shatter proof glass that took an Evangelion some effort to break, let alone a Shinji Ikari who could barely choke back a sob. "I...I just needed some time to breathe!"

"Are you finished?" Shinji froze in place as the cold, carefully controlled voice reached his ears, and he felt the cold, carefully controlled presence standing patiently behind him.

Feeling a little like he did the time he dived into a volcano, Shinji gasped out, "F-Father..." and slowly turned around. To his horrified regret, Shinji could confirm that Gendo Ikari was, currently, standing right in front of him. He felt his lips moving, but sound itself failed Shinji as the full reality of the moment was absorbed by his exhausted senses. The Commander's presence, as always, dominated the room, the general of the war against the heavens standing scarecrow still, not bothering to meet Shinji's eyes as though there was some pressing appointment the slow-witted excuse of a boy was keeping him from.

"That lamp was an antique." The Commander spoke; 'said' was too common, too casual a verb for Shinji to assign his father.

And, as preoccupied as Shinji was with the terror saturating his body, mind and soul, the Third Child didn't even notice that, in spite of all reason and decency, he was speaking. "...then why was it out in the hall?" A moment later, the fact that these words had come out of his mouth shook Shinji out of his shock and into a whole new plateau of fear. He just...sassed his father back. Over a lamp.

The Commander pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a combination of necessity, habit, and enjoyable intimidation tactic, as Shinji patiently waited for his father to light him on fire with the sheer power of his Commanderly rage. Instead, Gendo only said, "...fair enough." and set the ruins of the lamp down on a chair, pausing to take out a notebook and write something that Shinji could only conclude was an execution order down. Finishing his work, the Commander relentlessly continued to talk, perhaps drawing dark sustenance from the anxiety his son was suffering, "When you have...finished, report to the Prinbow Box. Doctor Akagi has theorized a use for you that may aid in the recovery of NERV personnel." Gendo's mouth moved strangely after this sentence, as if he could not quite get his mind around the idea of Shinji being useful for something that did not involve head butting aliens.

He had done it, Shinji thought, he had said a sentence to his father without stuttering and somehow continued to exist. Suddenly, worlds of conversational options opened up to Shinji, each defiant answer more tantalizing than the last. How dare the old man assume that Shinji wasn't going to be any help? Hadn't he been help and then some in situations that fourteen year old boys usually died horribly in? Didn't he hold his own after a week of training against two pilots who had been literarly raised to do his job? Yes, Shinji decided, he had just about enough of the constant doubting of his abilities, and he was going to say something about it! "...u...um..."

"Acknowledged." Gendo clipped, turning with military precision to walk back down the hall, presumably to complete whatever task had caused him to bump into Shinji.

The Third Child blinked, once, and slumped down to the floor, leaning against the window and letting a breath out. "Sorry." Shinji said, perhaps to himself, or perhaps to the giants below him, he wasn't entirely sure. "...but can you blame me for being a little, um, tense? You should see him when he's upset..."

* * *

"You know." Kaji murmured as he was summarily dragged through the hall, "This is a silk suit. It wrinkles easily..."

"That's the risk you take when you give me that kind of lip wearing something delicate. What the hell was that in there?" Ritsuko couldn't keep herself from snapping, "Since when did you give such a damn about the pilots' well being? I've never seen you act like that when we had to experiment on the First, or subject the Second to that volcano mission..."

"Is the fortress of Ritsuko Akagi showing a little guilt?" Kaji wondered in his smarmiest tone of voice, one possessing enough oil to actually power an old fashioned lamp for a few hours. "I know I'm not your type, Doctor, but if you ever need a stern punishment to work some of that tension out..."

"How dare you call my professionalism into question?! You insufferable, chauvinistic, pig-headed..."

"Well done, Inspector Kaji." A third voice chimed in.

It always amazed Kaji; Gendo Ikari was, in all reality, a physically unimpressive man. Sure, he was tall, but the Commander was so skinny that he looked more like a hunched over scarecrow than anything else, the sunglasses and formal white kid gloves rounding the image out to give Kaji the impression of a sneering, scheming villain from a children's cartoon. Maybe that's why he shaved the mustache, the spy reasoned, so he wouldn't get caught twirling it when deep in thought. But despite this, somehow, the Commander pulled the look off; Kaji, being a professional, could recognize a master of controlling the temperature of a room at work, and no one he knew did it quite like Gendo Ikari, mastering that strange combination of timing, tone of voice, body language, and just enough of a sense of humor that you realize he has the imagination to think of far worse fates than a shot in the back of the head. "Ah...thank you sir." It was all he could do to keep looking insufferably smug.

Giving Kaji a 'I can see right through you, ponytail' sort of look, Gendo looked at his knuckles, seemingly waiting for Ritsuko to finally say, "Well done?! What do you mean by-"

"I had just spoken with the Third Child." Gendo continued, nodding a little at Akagi in gratitude for her continuing to act in character, "While unstable, I was able to safely confirm Inspector Kaji's hypothesis that the boy was not only capable of thinking, but not lacking any more resolve than...well, than usual. I was worried we would have to quarantine the boy, forcing us back into the position of waiting for a more suitable candidate to wake up on their own."

"...that entire conversation was..."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true." Kaji decided to speak, pulling his arm out of Ritsuko's grasp and trying to smooth out his silk jacket. "It was all a matter of when I said it, how I said it, and who I said it in front of: Shinji's used to Katsuragi and I bantering about NERV's dark side, but I always try and keep things down to a minimum in front of you, Doctor, with your easily bruised feelings and all."

Akagi's eyes widened in realization, "...so Shinji would have to assume you were being sincere, and not as guarded as usual because you were worried about Misato!"

"Right in one." Kaji winked lewdly at his friend, trying to keep the pain at seeing the disgust in her eyes off his face. His job was so much easier if all of his old friends thought he was a heartless slimeball who didn't say anything without an ulterior motive, after all. Yeah. That's it.

"Doctor, report to the Sub-Commander. I expect the machine ready for synchronization testing within the hour." Gendo clipped in, again drawing the other adults out of their thoughts, commanding attention with a sense of awe usually reserved for small students realizing their teacher's authority for the first time. "Inspector, come with me. We have some...paperwork to look over."

"Of course, Commander." Kaji said as brazenly as he could manage; he was both relieved and annoyed to see the flash of pity in Ritsuko's eyes as she turned and walked towards the main synch lab. "Do you want me to dot the is in your name with those little hearts again, sir?"

* * *

"Doctor Akagi," Shinji Ikari scratched the back of his head while he spoke, "Can I ask a question?"

"You just did." Ritsuko murmured, more focused on what she was typing than what she was saying.

"Oh. Sorry."

Akagi waited. And waited. And felt a stab of pity as the realization set in. "Shinji, I was kidding. I'm sorry, it's just hard to...well, I'm typing, and.."

"I understand." Shinji said in that irritatingly conciliatory way of his. Ritsuko could almost understand the Second Child's resentment. Well, a little. "I just wanted to ask, um, well...why the machine..."

"...looks like an old electric chair, from the movies?" Ritsuko supplied in what Shinji could only perceive as a gleefully unhelpful tone of voice. "You'd have to ask Professor Fuyutsuki, I'm afraid. I'm playing second fiddle to him on this project."

"Really?" Shinji blinked, "Wow." Ritsuko wasn't sure if she should be flattered or insulted by the boy's honest surprise. "I always thought the Sub-Commander was just, um, an administrator..."

"Usually." Ritsuko admitted, biting her lower lip as she worked on a particularly difficult series of equations. Right, carry the square root of the imaginary integer and THEN cube the whole thing, that's it.. "But the Professor is as much a scientist as the rest of NERV, Shinji. And one of the world's leading experts on the science of human metaphysics...taking the immaterial and making it tangible, in other words. Emotion, belief, desire, the soul..."

"...dreams..."

Dr. Akagi paused from her labor to turn and look Shinji in the eye; the Third Child was standing the same slightly slumped way he always did, as if trying to find something to hide behind so no one would have to look at him for too long. His vision was downcast, and on any other boy, she'd suspect that he had been checking her out as "subtly" as a teenager could manage; but Ritsuko had no doubt that Shinji was just looking at his shoes, rather than risk insulting anyone by making eye contact. She couldn't help herself. "Why do you do it, Shinji?"

"...um, I'm sorry?" Shinji blinked, making eye contact from sheer surprise at the question. "I'm, ah, not sure what you mean..."

"Cut the crap." Akari snapped, her intelligent eyes narrowing as she observed the Third Child from a different angle. Was this part of what Misato saw in the little milksop? "Why do you act like you're...slow, when you're clearly not? You might not have the Second, or even the First's brains, but, kid, it's kind of obvious that you're a heck of a lot more perceptive than you act half the time. Do you just think that no one's going to notice it?"

Shinji blinked at this, both because it was the most personal thing Doctor Akagi had ever asked him that didn't involve, well, medical issues, and because she had chosen this exact moment to bring it up. "I..." How could he put this? It wasn't even that big of a...

"...never mind." Akagi sighed, returning to her console. "I'm overtired, Shinji, I'm sorry."

And what could he say to that? Shinji let out a sigh, shaking his head and looking back down at the floor. He tried. That counted for something, right? You're supposed to take baby steps when improving yourself. That's what all of the professionals say, at least. Not that Shinji knew any professionals, but he had read about them on the internet a little in his spare time, and gosh she's looking at him expectantly. "um, me too, Doctor Akagi...I mean, I know I shouldn't but, um, it feels like I haven't slept in days..."

Finally, Ritsuko thought, motioning to the monitor. "That's the problem, actually. From what we've been recording, while those affected are seemingly locked in sleep, recordings of their brainwaves show that they're..."

"Stuck."

"Vice Commander!"

"V-vice Command, uh, sir..."

Professor Fuyutsuki...even Commander Ikari didn't think of referring to the old man as anything more casual than that...stepped into the room with the strangest of expressions on his face, a rare, precious thing in NERV...at least, when not caused by an influx of antipsychotic medication. A simple, genuine smile. "Your friends are stuck, Shinji. Do you know how, when you sleep, you actually go through a series of cycles?"

"Ah." Shinji swallowed because People of Authority were looking at him, which was just never a positive thing. "S-sort of like a washer, right? It has to go through, um, the spin cycle a few times before a load's done."

And then, even more horrifyingly, the Vice Commander...mussed his hair! Oh God, Shinji thought desperately, he's been replaced by an Angel that can't act. "Very astute analogy, Third Child. Your friends are stalled in the first stage of sleep...unable to wake up, or get the benefits of true rest." The older man's expression turned softly somber, then. "If I may be frank with you, Shinji, I believe who...or what...ever did this intended for the victims to die from exhaustion. Probably thought they were being clever."

It seemed a little clever, in a train-wreck sort of a way, to the part of Shinji that wasn't overloading with panic at the moment. "T-to kill us?! But. I. Uh. And. How."

"There is a flaw. The A2 nerve." The Professor waited, patiently, for Shinji to Get It.

And, against his own expectations, Shinji did. "...isn't that the..."

"And that, Mister Ikari." Mister, huh, but Fuyutsuki had a sort of grandfatherly air that helped make Shinji think he wasn't being completely played because they needed a guinea pig. "Is why I am afraid we need your services again. As the part of the brain that allows synchronization allowed you to escape your dreaming prison on your own, we believe the synchronization process will enable you to...project your consciousness into that of your friends. You would experience their 'dream', so to speak, until we contact you; we will use your positioning to triangulate each person's brainwaves, allowing us to safely revive them. Now..."

"When do we start?" A pause. "Um, s-sir."

"...the process is experimental, and I can understand your reluctance, but I can assure you, Shinji, the danger to your person will be...I beg your pardon?"

* * *

Shinji liked to think that he was doing the best he could, but it wasn't exactly easy to drown out the noise.

"Heart rate slightly elevated..."

"Brain waves stabilized within two percent of the mental contamination limit."

"Compensators running nominally. Wait. No. Wait. Yes. Wait. Yep, nominally, that was just a fly."

Hard to ignore the tight little ball of fear that had formed in his gut, or how it gret with each cold analysis of his...condition. How likely it was that something was going to go wrong. How many first tests of new NERV equipment ended without someone getting hurt, after all?

"Target brain waves reacting within the oh-nine tolerance ratio."

"Psychosomatic alerts quiet."

"Beginning initial test pulse in five..."

Most of all, it was hard for Shinji to ignore the feeling that if he had not been the first Special Child to wake up, there wouldn't be anything like the current rush to find a way to rouse the others. After all, out of all of his coworkers...

"Beginning synchronization...now!"

...he was the most expendable. Shinji's fingers dug into the chair as the electric pulse surged through his body, and he wasn't quite where he should have been a minute ago...

The smells of oil, sour sweat and metal under pressure were as familiar to Shinji as they were to anyone who worked around heavy machinery for a living. Well, a postponing the sweet release of death-ing. The strange bit was the accent to the stink, a dryly tickling sort of angle that hinted at there being more sawdust than air, wood that should have been replaced a year ago, and the chilling clickity-snap noise Shinji had come to associate with the monorail just after an Angel attack. This wandering attention was quickly refocused on the slow, deliberate clack of a hammer pulled back as a prelude to being smashed into a chamber, shoving a bullet through the barrel and ultimately projecting the hunk of lead into the air and, if one knows what one is doing, into and through some unfortunate soul that happened to be in the way. Shinji idly wondered what sort of life he'd led that the first thing he could think of in regards to being held at gunpoint was that it was kind of irritating. "Is this," He mused aloud, "Going to become a habit of yours?"

"Well, hoss." The slight twang couldn't hide the bizarrely comforting sneer of superiority that Asuka's voice comfortably marinated in every night. It certainly beat the way she sounded the last time she held me at gunpoint, Shinji reflected, and immediately regretted the fact that he could do so. "Your ability t'perceive any sort of 'habit', see, is gonna depend on yonder listening comprehension skill, yeah? Now, keep those silk soft hands where ol'Calamity Asuka kin see 'em..."

* * *

Notes: And there we are! The reviews are appreciated, and I'm looking forward to what folks think now that the outline of the rest of the story has been revealed. Chapter 4 is going a little slower than I anticipated, but I'm about halfway finished. In the mean time: Can you guys guess which Angel makes an appearence in Chapter 2? 


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